Excalibur Marvel Future Shock
by Keravin
Summary: The premier issue of Excalibur. A tale of lies, secrets, immortals and Arthurian myth
1. Default Chapter Title

_Black Air proverb- We are not searching for Wisdom. We already found him._

The hologram emitted a slight hum. It had appeared in the centre of the room. The hologram was of a woman in mid to late thirties. She wore a simple red gown with no embroidery. 

A man's voice spoke from the darkness, saying simply "Begin". 

The woman turned to face the place in the shadows. "It will begin with knowledge and lies. A green knight. A man of shadows. A woman kept from the truth. And a killer who must choose one of two roads. Both may lead to death." 

* * *

#### BELIEF

### Excalibur: MFS Issue 1

Written and created by [Mark Peyton][1]  
Inspired by Dan Abnett, Alan Davis and Warren Ellis  


Jack looked back up the corridor coolly. The others crouched or braced themselves to the walls around him. He turned so he looked towards the closed door. He drew his gun from its holster and held the barrel under his nose, breathing its scent. In the corner of his eye he spied Nocturne move forward. He stood up from his crouched position and walked with him to the door. Nocturne stopped and swept a gloved hand inches away from the portal. He gradually moved the hand closer till he touched the door itself. "We're clear," he said, turning to Jack. 

Jack nodded. "Now check if it's locked." Somebody behind stifled a giggle. Nocturne turned the handle and pulled sharply stepping to the side. The door opened and Jack signalled the other two to catch up. He wasn't keen on the burden of heading a team. Especially a team with one man down. He'd only worked with a couple of these people before. Who knew what they'd heard about him. Trust Black Air to place him, Union, in charge. 

* * *

_Black Air Belief - No one within Black Air is more or less than one. We are greater as a whole and a part._

* * *

Tangerine blotted out the thoughts of uncertainty running through Union's mind. Her own worries were enough distraction without touching on his soiled mind. The only person she had known in this group was the one they were looking for. The one who had led them off their intended aim. 'Damn you Cham', she thought. 'This isn't like you.' She held her energy sword down as they moved forward. Union and Nocturne led the way, neither really looking at the other one. Behind them walked a strange little man she thought was called Scratch. He held his hands down by his sides, his fingers outstretched. The two at the front turned the corner and the swearing began. In a hail of profanity the two dived back round the corner as blasts whistled by. Tangerine brought the blade up and activated a small energy shield. Union and Nocturne caught their breath, resting against the wall, then stood up. Around the corner walked a misshapen amalgamation of techno-wizardry and bio-occultism. These were shells of people who had given themselves over centuries ago to their master. These were the Psycho Warriors. Once they had served the board of Mys-tech. Now they served simply the man called Crowe. 

* * *

_Black Air Belief - We are a brotherhood. If someone asks us for information we will provide it to the best of our knowledge. We have but one secret._

* * *

Scratch brought his hand up slashing across the Psycho Warrior's face. The word 'CUT' flashed through his mind as his razorsharp fingertips sliced through the thing's encounter suit and deep into its being. The black liquid running through its veins splattered onto Scratch and ran down his face and suit. The creature fell to its knees and he looked for a new opponent. At his side Tangerine blocked a laser blast with her shield and then struck with her energy sword. She looked away as the blow hit home. Scratch could not remember the last time he felt any sort of remorse, especially for an unliving thing. Jack had discarded his pistol and was fighting with his staff, attacking two at once. The calmness that had been on his face was now replaced with a savage intensity. 

Seeing all adversaries accounted for Scratch lowered his hands and moved amidst the carnage carefully. He certainly looked a curious sight within the group. Jack, or Union as he was known on missions, wore a greeny grey cloak under which he was encased in a form fitting body armour. Nocturne was dressed in tight black clothes accentuating his slimness. If Scratch had known anything about twentieth century literature he might have likened Nocturne to one Elric of Melnibone. Nocturne seemed glad of the low lighting in their surroundings and was now the only one in the group who was not splattered with the Psycho Warrior's black liquid. Tangerine, on the other hand, was wiping the liquid from herself. She hid her eyes behind a black visor trying to mask her discomfort. One thing struck Scratch about her - her vivid red hair. Amidst all the dark clothes it was like a beacon of hope. 

But there he stood in a simple business suit, now streaked with sweat and the life liquid of the Warriors on him. Torn between civilization and savagery. He moved forward and turned looking blankly. Tangerine caught him up and clasped her hands to her face. Shifting between nothingness and bloodied stillness was a man hung across a doorframe - Chameleon. Jack came forward and said said solemnly "Cut him down. Now!" 

Tangerine stood holding her arms to herself. She couldn't take her eyes from Chameleon's torn body. The others kept their distance as if they were competing in some stoic macho competition. She wasn't going to break down in front of them. Her mind pushed almost instinctively for Cham's mind and found blankness. She shivered and cried within. 

Jack held his staff at the ready. "Cover him up. Lets get this done quickly. And cause damage." 

* * *

_Black Air Belief - We have but one secret. We seek the sword that united a country. We seek Excalibur._

* * *

The front door blew as Jack walked out. A Psycho Warrior came at him, being met by his staff. Nocturne fought at his side felling his adversary. Jack turned to Nocturne and nodded. The dark clad mage threw out his arms and was enveloped by a portal of blackness. Jack breathed a sigh of relief - one safely away from his watch. Tangerine ran past in a flash of orange, blasting behind her. Jack looked back and shouted after her, "Where's Scratch?" 

Tangerine kept running. "No idea. He disappeared into a bunch of Psychos in there." 

Jack started after her. "Get out of here. I'll cover you and see if I can find Scratch." She nodded and leapt at the wall. Her hand took hold and she sommersaulted over. Jack looked on impressed, then swivelled and ran back into the complex. 'Where the hell was Scratch?' he thought. 

* * *

With black liquid streaming down his face Scratch walked out of the building. Behind him lay chaos. He patted his pocket, smiled and walked away. There was a delivery to make. 

* * *

Jack ran through the building, sidestepping bodies. 'This is hopeless.' Another room and yet more bodies. 'He's long gone. And I better be too.' He ran towards the outer shell of the building. A closed door lay ahead and he levelled his staff at it. Energy shot from the end striking the door as he came closer. The door began to glow and he shielded his head as it shattered. He burst through the other side as shots rang around him. The shapes came closer and he realised he was surrounded. 'No point running', he thought, stopping and swirling his staff. 'I stand here and fight.' The black shapes of the Psycho Warriors swarmed around and descended upon him like locusts. The green of his cloak was consumed by the darkness. He fought valiantly. If an old fashioned bard had been present songs would have been sung of the fight. 

Ifs can haunt a life forever. If Jack, or Union as he was also known, had not been pulled from the Psycho Warrior's clutches he might not have had long to consider might have beens. But plucked he was. By a man unlike any other. One of the individuals left in the world who had witnessed the age of the Marvels and had walked through history from Medieval times. A man unlike any other and no records existed of either him nor the family he had spawned throughout his life. He was called Adam, a man of invulnerability and immortality- a gift from his wife. He was a Destine and it was he who pulled Jack from the clutches of the Psycho Warriors. So began the fall of Black Air and the quest for a sword. 

* * *

Scratch handed the disk to the man and nodded. The room was lit moodily by small hanging lamps. He had only been in this room once before and had been sworn to secrecy about it. That was when he'd realised he enjoyed secrets. Black Air was all about openness and here, this room, was a secret it kept from itself. The man took the disk and said "You will be contacted soon. We thank you for this." Scratch nodded again and turned, catching a glimpse of what appeared to be two figures framed in the darkness. He walked from the room, leaving its denizens to their discussions. 

As the door closed behind Scratch, the lights on the room began to illuminate. The man who had taken the disk walked to the figures. The figures were of a man and woman holding hands. As they looked towards the approaching man both their faces flickered with the same face. That of a man with long brown straggly hair and a wispy beard. It was the female form that spoke with his voice first. "I think that that man would make a good little dog soldier." 

The other man nodded. "He's a killer alright and you are going to need more agents to carry out the missions ahead. Agents that know the truth." 

The male form spoke this time with the same voice. "I am aware of that Albion. Do not infuriate me. If I should wish I could take your face as my own." 

Albion stopped. "I've seen you do it to others. Why should I be any different." 

"Because Albion you serve loyally and that keeps your body under your control. Now do Crowe's records point to any leads about the sword?" said the female form. 

"Yes Mr Mountjoy I think we have a solid enough lead. We need to send agents into England." 

"I thought we might. A trip to England will help convince doubters that they really are seeking Excalibur and keep them off our real goal. Now draw up a list of agents for me. My bodies need rest and so I must change." The two bodies, hand in hand, slowly walked past Albion as if in a world of their own and headed to be replaced. 

* * *

_Black Air Truth - We are being lied to._

* * *

**Next issue** - We learn more about who exactly our main characters are as some journey into England to meet a Fae Queen. More weird goings on and some truths as we witness some **AWAKENINGS** soon. 

* * *

Welcome to the first issue of **Excalibur: Future Shock**. How do I explain this title? Firstly I'll attribute blame. The whole idea that I should write Excalibur was suggested by my friend Jericho Vilar, who held the position of this sites AEIC at the time. He and I share a mutual love of Warren Ellis and all he writes and he's seen me talk about how it was Warren Ellis alone that got me to buy Excalibur. And so he said that Excalibur as a title had been provisionally reserved for me. Now people who know my writing for DC Futures might have picked up on the fact that I'm a DC Nut. I buy very few Marvel titles leaving it to my brother Alex to be the Marvel Phile. But Jericho got me thinking. 

Excalibur is to be a strange little series. After a couple of issues its true focus should become clear and you may even realise who the main characters are amongst the many you'll be introduced to. You should see lots of what Europe of this time is like as Black Air is a band of wanderers. You should also meet lots of characters, many of whom you may never have heard of. The inspiration for this series comes from many old Marvel UK titles. You'll see elements not only of Excalibur, but also Clandestine, Dark Angel and the Knights of Pendragon. Things have changed but you'll meet lots of quirky characters. And hopefully like some of them too. 

This is a new site. We've got some excellent writers here all bringing their own energy and skill with them. I'd certainly suggest a look at Paul McNally's Hulk title, Robin Sutton's Spidey and Alex Peyton's Thunderbolts. All should be different, but all should compliment each other. 

If you'd like to email me then send letters to [starman26@hotmail.com][1] We'll probably sort out a new address once things are up and running. So if you know what Mountjoy is really after or you want to lambast me for having Adam Destine, but no Crimson Crusader then mail me. I hope you stick around because things get hotter from here on in. 

Mark 

_Mark Peyton is the current Assistant Editor in Chief for Marvel Future Shock. His other work includes Starman and Challengers of the Unknown (with Robin Sutton) for DC Futures and the forthcoming Sparks/Hawksmoor Oneshot (with Jericho Vilar) for Shattered Image. He probably writes too much and drinks too much Coke. All slander may or may not be true depending on who you heard it from and how much you paid them. _

   [1]: mailto:starman26@hotmail.com



	2. Default Chapter Title

Jack opened his eyes and looked to his companion. "Where are we going?" he asked. 

The man turned and said simply, "To the old country. To the place of your name Union Jack." His long blonde hair was pushed back and his eyes blank. His face didnÌt seem to have shown any emotion in all the time theyÌd been together since Adam had pulled him from the clutches of the Psycho Warriors. It was if Adam was constantly holding back. 

Jack turned to look out the window and prepared to enter Jerusalem. 

#### AWAKENINGS

### Excalibur: MFS Issue 2

Written and created by [Mark Peyton][1]

The telecom buzzed loudly. Tangerine pulled the pillow over her head. "Go away," she whined. "Leave me alone." The telecom paid no heed and relentlessly kept up its ringing. Tangerine resigned herself to answering it and trudged out of bed, across to it. "Yes?" she said wearily. 

Jack looked at her. "IÌd been told that you crash after a run, but I need you in England. This is off the books." 

Tangerine rubbed her eyes and sat down. "Run that by me again." 

"I need some help. Out of all the people involved on the last mission, I think I might be able to trust you." 

"WhatÌs to stop me from telling you to stick it?" Tangerine asked plainly. 

"Nothing at all. This is unofficial, but I think you like the truth. I canÌt tell you anymore, but youÌll be gutted if you miss out on this one." 

Tangerine looked back at the bed and then at him, silently for a moment. "Give me a rendezvous point and a time. This better not be a wildgoose chase Union." 

Jack smiled. "Call me Jack. I ask friends to call me Jack." 

* * *

_Black Air File #ZX763A21 _

Reportedly there is a Fae Queen living in the heart of the greenery of England. The stories have it that she planted the seeds of the trees, which spread throughout the country. The last sighting of her was clashing over the colonisation of the Antarctic. 

* * *

In her chamber of green and silicon the Fae Queen sat. Her long blonde hair flowed off her shoulders and over the arm of the chair. She looked around at the moss and vegetation and smiled. Her gaze shifted further into the caverns. Something caught her eye and a wistful look crept over her. The silent hum of the cavern continued. 

* * *

Tangerine sat amongst the passengers, trying to block out their thoughts. As a telepath she tried to keep away from large groups of people as their collected thoughts pushed through her barriers. She travelled normally alone or with smaller groups than this in her cover identity, but JackÌs message had required rapid movement. Only one transport left Italy bound for England fast enough and so here she was. Thoughts and conversations drifted in on her from all angles. She was going to be in a bad mood when they landed. 

* * *

_There are no Black Air Files currently on Adam Destine. There were._

* * *

Jack had gone off to make some form of requisition. Adam made his way slowly through the London metroplex. The constructs of metal and plastics rested uneasily with him. He had abided the cities when they had some aesthetic value. Now they seemed to sprawl in every which way. Up, Down. It mattered little. At least back in his home country he had the option of deserting the cities and moving into a more natural environment. HeÌd sat by and watched the trees sprout and grow into the barriers they were now. ÎCivilisationÌ in itsÌ wisdom had attempted to fight back against Nature reasserting itself, but technology can only accomplish so much. Especially when Nature knew the mechanics of the machine. The England of now was nothing like any of the Englands he had known. Large cities dotted throughout the country, connected only by the air. Well, that was not entirely true but the modern man was adverse to a long trek when a short flight would accomplish the same goal. He had to remember that most did not have his gift of immortality and so time was precious. 

He walked along the pedways whisking the workers to their hives and headed to a costumer. He had need of repair to his sword and the costumer was a friend. He shortly arrived at the shop and spent a pleasant half hour having his sword sharpened. HeÌd lost count of the number of swords he had throughout his life, but he always felt more comfortable these days carrying one with him. Most of the Law Enforcement agencies didnÌt bother him about it. Maybe he was becoming foolish with age. He had wrestled aliens and other strange creatures, but it was always useful to cut a path. The pin Jack had given to him beeped. Adam considered it, as a God considers an ant. 

He decided to press it. 

A hologram of Jack extended two feet in front of him. The definition on the image was sharp, though the movement was not altogether smooth. "Adam, we need to arrange a meeting point. My business is done." 

Adam nodded. "Mine too. Do you know the Churchill memorial?" 

Jack paused a moment. "I think so, yes." 

"We will meet there then. As quick as you can." 

* * *

The Churchill Memorial had many names. It stood by Westminster near to what had been the old Houses of Parliament. It stood as a monument to the lives given in previous World Wars, but also in the service of the country. A large, burly man with the manner of a Bulldog looked down on Adam, who looked back almost petulantly. Jack arrived shortly, his long green/grey cloak packed away. He looked almost presentable, masking his physique under normal clothes. His short brown hair and features presented a very serious persona. Adam stared off into space, again cut off. Jack stopped a little way off and looked at him. Was this a man with a lifetime of regrets or a man who had no way of expressing any true feelings? Jack shook his head and walked to stand in front of Adam. "Present and accountable." 

Adam nodded out of his trance. "You have arranged the meeting on the city limits?" 

"Yes to the West." 

"Good then we will be off to give us plenty of time to make the rendezvous." 

* * *

Tangerine walked along the street, breathing in the attention. The flight had gotten to her. All the pettiness enclosed had pressed in on her. SheÌd gone and done the first thing that came to mind when she landed - shop. The purchases had been stored and up the street she walked in a new dress, orange hair tied back. Jack sat on a railing, a long green travelling coat gathered around him. He nodded to Tangerine. "About time." 

"ItÌs a long way from Italy and paved with bureaucracy. Shall we get going?" 

Jack smiled. "Lets stop by the cafe and pick up our travelling companion." 

"WhoÌs that?" 

"IÌll introduce you enroute." Jack stepped down and strolled briskly across the street. 

Adam sat at the window, reading news reports from his datapad. He looked up and rose, walking out. "West," he said simply. 

* * *

_Black Air File - Classified _

Braddock Manor is lost in the forests of England. It blocks attempts to locate it on all known imaging, satellite and directional device. We know it is there, but all attempts to find it has led our operatives into realms of madness. 

* * *

The vegetation was supposed to be dense, almost impenetrable. Jack had never been into the forests of England. Rumours abounded of fierce creatures roaming them, escapees from genetic labs. It was if the trees were letting them pass. 

Tangerine walked along, looking around. She kept expecting to find a row of animals sat watching them. Her mind pushed out a little probe. There was a presence here. Not hostile, watching, waiting. She should be taking notes. No one that she knew had ever been into this part of England. Since Nature had fought back during the 22nd Century certain areas of England had become impenetrable to technology. It was if someone or something had been keeping them out. Well, that seemed to be true. She looked over at Adam, leading the party. Adam was a strange one. He rarely spoke, displaying no reaction to cold, discomfort or tiredness. It was almost as if he were some kind of robot. Yeah, but a robot would have displayed probably more human warmth than Adam did. She couldnÌt take to him at all. There was nothing to like about the guy, no emotional hook to provoke a pleasant reaction. ThatÌs why was definitely not going to psi-scan him. Her attention shifted. And then there was Jack. SheÌd heard so many tales about his past sheÌd been very surprised when she had met him. Black Air was a strange group, but Jack was a strange one within it. People joked of the Green Knight when they talked of him, until someone would bring up an incident of rage. Jack noticed her attention and nodded to her, smiling. Can I trust either of them the way I trusted Cham? she thought. 

* * *

Scratch was nervous. Two meetings in the same number of days with Albion. Scratch wasnÌt a man who enjoyed uneasiness in himself. In others he probably savoured it, but he did not like not being in control. He felt like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights. What was worse was that Albion was being inordinately pleasant to him, smiling probably more than was natural. Albion was a large man and derived his name from a resemblance to a Lion. His long blonde hair had once been his trademark, until it cost him a scar and almost an eye. He kept what had been cut off as a pelt on his belt. Scratch had met him in a bar in New Berlin. HeÌd been careful so far not to talk of the figures he had seen [in Excalibur 1- Mark]. Secrets were being kept and who was he not to indulge. The little people milled around as he and Albion talked. 

"How loyal do you feel to Black Air?" Albion asked softly. The words drifted to Scratch and hung like a dagger. 

Scratch paused. "How do you mean? Black Air are my brothers and sisters." 

Albion nodded. "Good, good. And what if one of these brothers were to betray the brotherhood?" 

Again the question hung laced with intent. "Then the brotherhood must decide his punishment." 

"Spoken like a true brother, Scratch. Is that your only name?" 

Scratch looked at him seriously. "It is the only one I will answer to. IÌve made certain of that." Albion considered his comment. 

"We have need of your abilities and loyalty, Scratch. A brother has gone rogue endangering one of the libraries. We must act swiftly or much knowledge might be lost." 

"Who is the rogue?" 

"Spitfire. I believe you know him?" 

Scratch nodded, keeping his face composed. "I trained him." 

AlbionÌs voice oozed sympathy. "It is always hard when we are undone by one close to us. Will you help me?" 

Scratch looked at him, hoping for more information before the decision. Do I have any choice? 

* * *

They had arrived at a doorway set into stone. Windows looked down from the greenery from a house shrouded in nature. The stone was white, a crisp white, not one dulled with age or disrepair. Adam smiled, the first time either Jack or Tangerine had ever seen him do so, and looked to the door. "Tell your mistress she has guests." The door swung open neither too fast, nor with exaggerated slowness. Jack stood expecting creaking door sounds and a hunched butler. He was disappointed. 

Inside the door stood a tall blue and red robot holding open the door. It looked over Adam slowly sweeping its gaze over his body. "Designate Destine. The Mistress awaits you within the caves." Adam nodded, slipping off his coat, handing it to the robot and walking in. Tangerine followed intrigued, while Jack walked in slowly looking over the Robot. It considered him, noting his staff with special attention. 

Adam led Tangerine through what appeared to be a large stately home. Within its confines there was no sign of the dense forestation they had passed through to get here, nor of any decay. Its decor was archaic, she would guess ranging from the Twentieth to Twenty First Centuries. A large number of paintings, portraits and pictures hung on the wall. One room seemed covered in works in a similar style, of various weird and wonderful characters. She made a note to look back in that room later. 

Adam didnÌt stop once to look around, while Tangerine noted rooms she would die to look around. Jack was far behind, lost in his own investigations. AdamÌs route brought them down a staircase and into a cavern of green and silicon. Tangerine had run to catch up. The cavern hummed with an intelligence sheÌd not felt before. The sensation of someone watching was strong here. Adam stopped abruptly and looked around. "Will you grace an old traveller and his companions with your presence?" he said loudly. 

A small giggle sounded and a light, almost elfin voice spoke from all around. "You always could bring a smile to my face Adam, with your seriousness." The voice seemed to be slowly centring with the caverns, no longer all around. Tangerine looked to see a throne appear in the branches of a tree. The wood glistened with fibres and datastreams running through it. From behind she felt a presence and turned to see a long blonde haired woman with almost ethereal beauty float past. The air seemed to carry her. She had on long green flowing robes, but was barefoot. Tangerine looked at her as she passed. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with wonder. The woman floated to the throne and descended into it. She looked over Adam. "YouÌve not changed." 

Adam nodded. "I would not expect to now. And you, how are you after your battles?" 

"Still resting and deciding on my next course of action. The fighting in Arctic cost me a great deal, but has slowed the colonisation a little. Piece by piece the planet is fighting back." She stopped and looked at Tangerine. "Who is your friend, Adam? SheÌs not one of your clan." 

Adam was quiet at the mention of his family. "No, she is not. The name she has given me is Tangerine. We travelled with another, but the house seems to have waylaid him." 

The woman nodded. "IÌll have Mastermind hurry him along." She looked at Tangerine as if recognising a part of her. "Pleased to meet you. YouÌll hear all kinds of names for me, but the one I still prefer is Meggan." She smiled a smile of one who was still innocent within the world. 

Tangerine smiled warmly. She might have found no emotional hook to connect with Adam, but Meggan had them aplenty. Behind her she heard the scuffle of feet and Jack was shooed into the room by the large robot. He stood poised for combat, until his eyes rested on Meggan. All protestation stopped and he was quiet. Adam looked back. "And that is Jack, otherwise known as Union Jack." Jack bowed, low and graceful, his eyes fixed upon Meggan. 

Meggan looked over them all. "So why have you come into my kingdom, Adam?" 

Adam looked back at his companions. "To show these two a little of the world hidden from them and to ask a favour." 

"A favour Adam. ThatÌs unlike you." 

"IÌm involving myself in the affairs of mortals, Meggan, that is also unlike me. I swore off any more connections a long time ago. This Jack seeks answers though he does not know it and a sword though he would not reveal it." Both Jack and Tangerine looked unnerved to each other. 

Jack protested. "What sword?" 

Adam looked back. "I know who you work for and the secret they supposedly keep. That is why I brought you to Meggan." He turned back to face Meggan. "The sword they supposedly seek is Excalibur." 

Meggan smiled. "What goes around comes around as an old friend would have said. You need my help in this quest?" 

Tangerine and Jack stood silently, not breathing a word of the questions running through their minds. Their eyes flitted from Adam to Meggan and back. 

Adam spoke once more. "I need no help. IÌm asking for passage and an introduction for Jack to the Dark Angel." Jack looked perplexed at Adam. 

"You really are taking them around Adam. Why?" Meggan asked. 

"ThatÌs my business. Will you aid the boy?" 

Meggan nodded "Of course. He has a good name. Brian would approve. I will contact Ms Haldane and tell her she can expect company. But until then please stay a while and tell me of the outside world." Chairs rose from the ground behind each of the three travellers. Jack sat quickly, his eyes on Meggan, but his mind no longer on her beauty, but on what lay ahead and questions to be asked. 

* * *

And in the next cavern lay the form of a large man resting. Not asleep, nor awake. His name was Brian Braddock. He had had many names. He was MegganÌs beloved, from a time when she had existed guided by the moon. He slumbered as England continued. His fate seemed bound up in it since he had taken the mantle of Captain Britain. He was the Once and Future Captain. Legend had it he would rise in EnglandÌs hour of need. Legends donÌt always tell all the truth. 

**NEXT ISSUE** - We focus on Nocturne as we see more of the group that is Black Air. Questions abound as truths are questioned. The fate of Spitfire is revealed and the others head towards Cornwall and a mysterious Castle. Come along and see for yourself. 

* * *

#### LETTERS

IÌm probably more shocked than anyone the instant reaction the series had. No sooner had it gone out than we had letters. And more surprisingly letters that liked the series. The other letters I get on the first issue will probably go in issue 3. If someone comes up with a letter column title weÌll think of some prize. 

_I loved this first issue, both the overall writing/atmosphere and all its assorted teasers, and am really looking forward to more. It has so many elements of what i find too little of in most fanfic: originality, new combinations and fleshing out of less-known characters, etc...  
Yes!! i have been waiting *forever* for somebody to do some Knights of Pendragon in fanfic!! Yay!!! I actually don't know all that much about a lot of the Marvel UK titles (i have maybe 3-4 Mys-tech issues and i think 1 Dark Angel)but I carefully hunted down and collected all the Knights of Pendragon issues i could. But it wasn't near enough, i want more stories with them and I'm looking forward to learning more about the other Marvel UK characters that I have only a brief acquaintance with -- fanfic is usually a great way to do that so, looking forward eagerly to more :-)   
-- luba_

HOW OBSCURE WILL I GET WITH CHARACTERS. I DON'T KNOW YET. MY MAIN SOURCE SO FAR IS MARVEL UK AND I WILL TRY AND EXPLAIN EACH CHARACTERÌS HISTORY IF ITÌS IMPORTANT. ANYTHING YOU DONÌT UNDERSTAND TELL ME AND IÌLL TRY AND EXPLAIN IT IN A COLUMN. KNIGHTS OF PENDRAGON IDEAS WILL SURFACE IN HERE. THE SOURCES OF INSPIRATION WERE STATED RIGHT AT THE START OF EXCALIBUR 1. 

**MY GOD! Finally someone who shares my same vision of "Excalibur", right down to the little embroidered DC-isms! Fucking excellent stuff, I always loved the Marvel UK stuff more than anything (especially Death's Head ).Well, I have my own alt. Excalibur series (two stories so far ["Corinthia"/"Tsunami"] on Luba's "Fonts Of Wisdom" site) and I can see IÌm going to have to really start writing if I am to do anything as fantastic as your take on the Excalibur futures! Brilliant stuff.  
La Tristesse Durera, Jac**

SO THEREÌS A CORRELATION BETWEEN LIKING THE SERIES AND LIKING MARVEL UK SO FAR. WEÌRE DOOMED 8) NOW JAC WROTE THIS LETTER LITTLE REALISING HEÌD GET ROPED INTO DOING A SERIES. SO YOU CAN SEE HIS EXCELLENT FANTASTIC FOUR ON FUTURE SHOCK WITH ISSUE 2 OUT SHORTLY, BEING THE SECOND EUROPEAN FUTURE SHOCK TITLE. THINK DOOM PATROL WHEN YOU READ IT. IT IS REALLY TWISTED HEHEHE. 

Right thatÌs it for now. Please write to me at Starman26@hotmail.com 

And try some other of our lovely Future Shock titles 

see ya  
Mark 

   [1]: mailto:starman26@hotmail.com



	3. Default Chapter Title

Through strange lands and the night he runs. Once a brother, he renounced the lies. They taught him to search for the truth, but didnÌt like the secrets he uncovered. 

His name is Spitfire. 

YouÌve met him before. 

#### (A SUDDEN LACK OF) FAITH

### EXCALIBUR: MARVEL FUTURE SHOCK Issue 3

Written and created by [Mark Peyton][1]

If youÌve been paying attention you have already been inside one of the Black Air libraries. In virtually every major city throughout fractured Europe you will find some Black Air presence, if not a library. 

The libraries are strange constructs. Black Air kept away from the breakthroughs in cybertechnology. The worldnet of Cyberia was not for them. Instead they had developed data collection onto what were now referred to as volumes. Interactive data stores which could collate and sift through companion volumes to provide linked information. The libraries therefore contained not only the spoken rememberances of Black Air brothers and sisters, nor simply paper reams of data, but interactive sources which acted as a restriction on the flow of information at the same time as providing only so much as to suggest freedom. 

Black Air is a carefully constructed lie. It has been well planned. 

* * *

_BLACK AIR FILE #DL237P21 _

The name of Dark Angel was linked from the start to that of the Mystech Board. One of the few who opposed the mad schemes of Mystech she was linked to the X Men. Rumours have likened her potential abilities to comparable to that of the Silver Surfer. 

* * *

The strange group were continuing on foot through the dense forests of England. Tangerine was glad to have taken advantage of the rest at Braddock manor to change into a suitable travelling outfit. Jack sat by himself when he could, writing in a small notebook, only when he knew he was alone. Adam had been spirited away by Meggan before they had left for which Tangerine had been glad. She wondered what she had agreed to. Adam had revealed secrets of Black Air that were unspoken. It was true they sought Excalibur. The Sword that would unite. 

No one else was supposed to know. It was the one supposed truth hidden by Black Air from the rest of the world. Tangerine sat, her arms wrapped around herself. ÎWhy had Jack got her here? True, it was almost a once in a lifetime opportunity. This house, its paintings. Paintings of long ago, of heroes lost. All signed with the initials P.R.. The pictures looked in on the heroesÌ souls. What about her? What was she now? 

She was losing herself. 

Her belief was being washed away. 

* * *

THE ROOKHOUSE, VIENNA

The library at Vienna had been called the Rookhouse since before Black Air had ever existed. Nocturne had travelled to many of the libraries in his quest for mystical knowledge, and this was one of his favourites. He was, if he admitted the truth to himself, at best a mediocre Mage. Good at a few tricks, he had tried for easy knowledge. HeÌd spent too long searching for the mythical Sorcerer Supreme, Strange. Now as he showed up at the various Black Air Libraries, all gaunt and pale, they paid him little attention. He might be a joke to them, but he intended to use that to his advantage. He hurried around the large library picking up various volumes and scurrying them away to a secluded room. One of the volumes he had picked up related to the mission report on their last assignment. After the dust had settled he had headed for France to take a breather and to indulge himself in one of his favourite cover identities, but some throwaway comment by another Black Air brother had got his attention. There was talk about a mission to England - a high profile mission. No one knew quite what it was about, but England always brought with it the possibility of finding the Sword. No one would say that of course, that was tempting fate, but his mind was intrigued. What exactly had they extracted from Crowe? Why had it been spirited away so? He wasnÌt in the habit of looking back on past exploits, but he was curious just what had been reported. 

That was why he had come to Vienna. The Libraries were supposedly equal sources once they reached a certain size, but he had become aware of their nuances, through his research. London was a far greater source of information on the Americas for example, while Bonn concentrated mainly on tales out of Latveria. Vienna for some reason had become accustomed to housing Black Air mission reports, as much as there were such things. It was the duty of the operative carrying the information to transcribe the report. On missions where the team found itself splitting the information each operative carrying information was expected to provide a transcription. In the last case that meant Scratch. 

He hooked up a number of files pertaining to legends and to England with what he took to be the transciption. The key to using the Black Air libraries was to think around the information you wanted. From his research it had become clear to him that there was a lot hidden from the common user. Information was not without its price nor was it always easy to gain. 

* * *

_BLACK AIR FILE #BA548S98 _

Spitfire was one of those lucky individuals to be born into the Brotherhood. The son of two loyal Black Airites he was accepted into one of our schools early on when his abilities manifested themselves on a random test. Notable teachers were Scratch [see File #BA376S22], Lore [see File #BA452L41] and Cloak [see File #BA148C12]. 

* * *

Algiers seemed to be closing in on him. Ever closer to Africa, but seemingly further away. He should have expected this sooner. There was no way they would let him simply walk away from their Brotherhood. He darted into the alleyway and breathed in trying to catch his breath. Funny his mind was on new names for when he was free. Anything apart from Spitfire. He looked around slowly, up at the rooftops. ÎI wonder who they sent. Who is trustworthy enough to kill a traitor.Ì 

He crouched and breathed in again to focus himself. There seemed no way out of this without a fight, even if it was just to get them off his back for a while. His eyes opened as he looked down at his hands. The left one glowed blue while the right was bright white with the intensity of the energy bound up in it. In the night sky the glowing orbs around his hands would act as a signal to his pursuers. He raised himself up to his feet and stepped out on to the street. ÎLetÌs get this out in the open away from the shadows.Ì 

Scratch stood at the other end of the street in his usual suit. His eyes burned holes into Spitfire as he considered him. 

Spitfire smiled, almost melancholy. ÏI never thought theyÌd pick you.Ó 

Scratch nodded. ÏI never thought theyÌd have to. They want you back.Ó 

ÏNo, they want me dead. We both know that. You always told me to not live in a dreamworld. The reality is IÌm dangerous. Who else is here?Ó 

Scratch smiled. ÏI should be proud that you remembered your lessons so well.Ó 

A clapping sounded behind Spitfire and he wheeled to see Albion stood almost smirking as he watched, eyes down focussed upon SpitfireÌs form. Spitfire turned so his body was at a right angle to both and stepped back, raising his arms. His hands began to glow, one in blue energy, the other crackling in red. Albion stepped forward and was met with SpitfireÌs intense glare. ÏSay what you have to say. Step any closer and the time for words will be passed.Ó 

Albion stepped back his arms down by his sides. ÏThe Brotherhood is most dissappointed in you, Paul.Ó 

ÏMy name is Spitfire to you.Ó 

ÏWhatever. You have let down your family, running, spreading untruths and jeopardising the safety of others.Ó 

ÏIÌve jeopardised nothing. I tried to leave. The truth is...Ó 

ÏLittle boy, you know nothing about the truth. You have vague ideas which youÌve coloured in with fanciful lies.Ó Albion paused. ÏYou got an inkling of the truth and you ran. See how well you handle the truth.Ó 

Spitfire looked down the street to Scratch, who looked down at the ground. ÏSo teacher, do you know their truth? Or are you just happy being their killer? What a piece of work this Brotherhood is!Ó 

ScratchÌs eyes glanced up at his pupil. ÎWhat was he doing here? HeÌd divorced himself from his emotions years ago and here he was wrestling with himself about his loyalty to his family or to the boy he had trained.Ì 

Albion smirked again. ÏHyperbole seems rather sweet coming from your lips, Paul. Scratch should realise why he is here. We watched the two of you, wondering which would stray into the truth first. Paul, the idealist did. The funny thing is you barely scratched the surface. Your teacher should have taught you better, you might have uncovered more.Ó He stepped forward. ÏYou have shown you donÌt deserve the full truth so little boy you face us.Ó 

* * *

Jack swung from the tree downwards. ÏWhere are we heading?Ó he asked as he landed close to Adam. 

Adam continued walking, paying no attention to JackÌs attempts to relieve his boredom. ÏWeÌre going to a place called Cornwall, to see a lady. I wonÌt tell you again. Stop acting like a child.Ó 

Tangerine laughed. ÏYour knowledge of children must be immense.Ó 

As he stepped over a large swathe of roots, Adam looked back and said, ÏOne day you might meet some of my clan. Of course youÌll probably not know it. Very good at secrets are my children.Ó For the first time Tangerine caught the sign of a smile on AdamÌs face, then sadness. 

The days went by as they walked through the green canopies of England. Time moved in a strange, haphazard way. Jack was finding keeping his journal problematic as the days began to merge. Adam paid little heed to the unusual flow of light and dark. 

Over the three watched a pair of eyes. They were expecting to see the party soon. Very old games were underway. 

* * *

INTERLUDE

There are many thrones around the Earth of 2208. From the throne of the Steel Monarch of Latveria to the empty throne of the true England. Not all these thrones have kingdoms. Not all these thrones are bound to this world. 

On one such throne sits a King who watches for a world not quite like ours, but bound inexorably to ours. 

ÏTo me boy,Ó the King coughed. From beneath overflowing robes his red eyes looked out from puckered skin. 

A slight form ran towards him and kissed his gnarled hand. In a voice neither feminine nor masculine it said, ÏYes mÌlord.Ó 

The King wheezed and raspily whispered, ÏTo England, boy. I feel the presence of the Un-Earth looms close. Watch for it my faithful servant and gather your siblings. It will be mine.Ó 

* * *

ALGIERS 

The night air crackled with energy, both physical and emotional. Three men, former comrades in arms, sommersaulted, dodged and clashed with one another. Spitfire, the energy wielder, cascading the area in red and blue blasts, desparately trying to keep the distance between him and his opponents. Scratch, the supposed cold-blooded killer, with his razorsharp fingertips, slashing at the air, moving almost methodically. Albion, shifted into a form between that of his name sake and his supposed humanity, man beast, attacking with ferociousness. Claws struck flesh, energy burned. 

Spitfire vaulted backwards onto higher ground. Toward him ran Albion, his face distorted, more beast than man now. He was a strange vision, shorn of his hair, his mane, his eyes glazed with the animal in control. Spitfire concentrated trying to clear his mind as the adrenalin ran through him. Old tunes sparked in his mind as he rasied his glowing arms and fired two more blasts. The blue struck Albion, who barely registered it, but the red hit on his shoulder, throwing his advance off. Scratch moved around the side, aware of AlbionÌs rage. ÎIf Albion wanted the kill then he could have it.Ì 

Albion leapt at the blasting form of Spitfire, who tumbled backwards. The two lay sprawling on the ground as both tried to gain the upper hand. Albion tore at Spitfire while Spitfire fired full strength blasts at close proximity. 

Scratch had no desire to descend into the arena and ran to check the holo projector. Spitfire was right, Black Air wanted to remain hidden to the majority. If the normal people could see the fight raging then there would be questions asked. As the majority of Black Air were super powered that meant reprecussions could be felt upon the Mutant population of Europe. Mutants werenÌt trusted as it was and reckless fighting in public could only lead to harder limits being placed on them. That would affect Black AirÌs freedom of movement and operation and so secrecy was kept. 

Behind his back there was a bright flash of energy and a thud. Scratch wheeled to see Albion lying a little way down the street, smoke rising from his chest. Spitfire sprinted towards him, bloody and his face heavily scarred. Scratch closed his eyes and then reopened them, bringing up his hands. ÏStop,Ó he said quietly, then repeated it louder. ÏStop!Ó 

Spitfire continued. ÏYouÌll have to kill me. IÌm not going back.Ó 

Scratch began to wield his hands in the air. ÏBloody stop!Ó 

ÏNot this time.Ó 

Scratch would not remember the next few seconds, just their aftermath. As his consciousness took control again of his body, the boy he had trained lay imbedded upon his fingertips, the breath exiting from his body for the last time. Spitfire looked up at his former teacher with dying eyes. Catching his few remaining breaths he said softly, ÏLearn something from me this time.Ó 

The night in Algiers grew dark. 

* * *

VIENNA 

The image of a sword spiralled around the room. Its blade glittered, sparkling from a non-existent light, its hilt of such quality that surely a Master must have had a good day forging it. Its point span onto NocturneÌs finger as he sat back into his chair. His long white hair hung down on his shoulders and he breathed cautiously reading the text as it ran up the air. ÎAnother piece to find Excalibur was what the report said weÌd found.Ì He closed his eyes and through his eyelids still saw the sword spinning in its ethereal light. ÎNo mention of Chameleon nor of what we faced. So little of this report even borders the truth it is unbelievable. Why would Scratch lie so?Ì 

HeÌd been there as the information had run off the screen at CroweÌs. He might be a joke to Black Air running after Phantom Sorcerers, but he remembered what he saw. He remembered what they had retrieved that night - old Mys-tech files. ÎChrist, the report didnÌt even mention Mys-tech. Did they expect no one to check? And on top of it all they hid it behind the ÎtruthÌ of the sword.Ì That had been a slap in the face using the ÎtruthÌ as a lie. ÎWhat was the sword really hiding then?Ì 

He clicked his fingers and opened his eyes as his manifested vision faded to stardust. Nocturne was a mage of the shadows and as the ethereal light faded he felt uncomfortable in this darkness for the first time. 

* * *

NEXT ISSUE - Two people so far questioning their loyalty, but how many more will as Jack is exposed to the Dark AngelÌs truths. A new order is coming together as we go DOWN AND OUT IN CORNWALL AND PARIS. 

* * *

**LETTER COLUMN **

Just one this time and you donÌt want to know when I got this. This comes from Luba Kmetyyk, MFSÌ beloved site administrator as well as the Pete and Kitty flamebearer, 

_But, seriously, i liked this, even more than #1. things are becoming a bit clearer, as to how this can be set far in the future, and still have recognizable characters. between the long-lifers and the 'archetypes' (for lack of a better term) you can have familiarity and originality mixed. I did like Meg as the faerie queen and the protector of nature, that picks up nicely on her empathic nature and ties to the earth in current excalibur, and Brian as a sort-of King Arthur is also a neat move. and i did guess right -- the sword they are searching for was obviously either excalibur itself (or illyana's soulsword). _

-- luba 

IÌM GLAD YOU ENJOYED ISSUE 2. I MUCH PREFER IT TO ISSUE 1 AS THE WORLD THE CHARACTERS ARE GOING TO LIVE IN BECAME CLEARER TO ME. IMMORTALITY IS AN ISSUE THAT IS GOING TO BE DEALT WITH HERE AND PROBABLY IN ONE OF THE DOOM ONESHOTS BUT IÌM AIMING TO SHOW HOW THE IMMORTALS HAVE CHANGED. ADAM IS HIDING A FAIR BIT AND WE WILL SEE SOME OF THAT WHEN WE MEET AT LEAST ONE OF HIS CLAN. YOU MENTION ARCHETYPES - WELL IF THE NEW CHARACTERS ARE CLOSE TO BEING LIKE THEIR NAMESAKES THEN IÌLL HAVE TO WORK ON THEM. THE NAMES ARE THE SAME FOR A REASON BUT THEY ARE DIFFERENT PEOPLE. HOPEFULLY BY ABOUT ISSUE 8 IÌLL GIVE MYSELF THE TIME TO EXPLORE CHARACTERS INDIVIDUALLY. 

MEGGANÌS NEW ROLE IS ONE OF MY PROUDER MOMENTS AND I MIGHT GET AROUND TO EXPLORING THE EFFECT HER PRESENCE HAS HAD ON ENGLAND. IÌD SAY 100 FT TREES WOULD HAVE QUITE AN EFFECT AND ENGLAND HAS CHANGED DUE TO ITS ENVIRONMENT CHANGES. WHETHER BRIAN IS KING ARTHUR WEÌLL HAVE TO SEE. BACK IN THE ORIGINAL KNIGHTS OF PENDRAGON HE WAS LANCELOT SO WEÌLL SEE IF HE EVER WAKES UP. THE LEGEND GOES THAT ARTHUR WOULD RETURN IN ENGLANDÌS HOUR OF NEED - NOW THAT WOULD HAVE TO BE QUITE EARTHSHATTERING SO IN THE MFS WORLD ITÌLL BE INTERESTING WHEN THAT HAPPENS. 

AS FOR THE SWORD(S) THE TITLE IS CALLED EXCALIBUR BUT THE ORIGINAL NEVER HAD ANY CONNECTION IN MY MIND WITH THAT SWORD. ONE SWORD I CAN TELL YOU WILL BE A FOCUS IN THESE PAGES IN TIME THOUGH NOT QUITE IN A WAY MANY PEOPLE EXPECT, THOUGH THE WAY JAC MILNESTEINÌS MIND WORKS HE MIGHT STUMBLE INTO IT. AND LUBA WOULD I BE SNEAKY ENOUGH TO USE THE SOUL SWORD GIVEN WHO THE MAIN SOURCE OF MY EXCALIBUR KNOWLEDGE COMES FROM? 

Enough shouting and I canÌt go on like Jac does in Fantastic Four (of which the last issue of the first Limited series will be out this month - MFS month 3). WeÌre now into our third month and seemingly people like us. The only negative IÌve heard is that weÌve not touched on Africa or Australia yet. Africa is the subject of a possible prop and is guaranteed to show up in the InhumanÌs world tour which started last month - genocide and sun what more could you ask for. No sign of Australia yet IÌll admit. 

My picks for the month here are Thunderbolts, which surprisingly to me, itÌs written by my little brother so of course itÌs a surprise, is becoming something IÌm looking forward too, and Fantastic Four, which just about makes sense to me but IÌm expecting confusion soon. Oh and keep your eyes peeled for Avengers America by Jericho Vilar - IÌve seen sneak previews and this is superb- and the first Doom oneshot/miniseries written mainly by me but with contributions from all over MFS. That should be coming soon, basically when I get into the special groove to write it. If youÌve ever wanted to see why Black air agents donÌt go into Latveria take a look. 

ThatÌs all for this month. 

Any Lettercolumn suggestions to me and weÌll sort out a prize of some description. 

All questions, hatemail and general letters to me at Starman26@hotmail.com 

   [1]: mailto:starman26@hotmail.com



	4. Default Chapter Title

_Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please - Mark Twain._

The tannoyed voice said words that meant nothing to him. He pressed against the flow of the crowd, their pushing cushioned by his deep coat. Keeping his eyes down he tried to avoid their questioning eyes as they struck him. The hood covered his face masking his white hair, hopefully stopping anyone tracking him that easily. Vienna had to be left behind. A few false trails then on to find Jack. To England. 

### EXCALIBUR: MFS Issue 4

#### DOWN AND OUT IN CORNWALL AND PARIS

Written and created by [Mark Peyton][1]

"Where are you going?" 

Tangerine looked at him falteringly. "They called. I have to go. You know that."

"Before yes. But.. if you go they'll know what we've been inside. Tell her, Adam." Jack looked over his shoulder at Adam who sat nestled against a tree trunk. The long blonde haired man considered Jack, then shook his head. "Fat lot of good you are."

"Jack, just listen. I'll arrange to rendezvous in Portsmouth. It's far enough away that they might not instantly start asking questions." Jack threw up his arms and stalked across to his backpack. Tangerine followed and put her hand on his shoulder. "You asked me to trust you and follow blindly. Trust goes both ways. Whatever is down in Cornwall, you find for both of us. When the mission is over, I'll be back." 

Jack nodded slowly. 

Tangerine smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "At the moment, Jack, you're about the only person I trust." She walked back to her own possessions and picked them up silently. Looking up she saw Adam pointing her direction of travel and nodded. Her footfalls were heavy to start with until she heard her name being called. Looking back she saw Jack up in the branches. 

"Hurry back and you can tell me what your real name is. Who knows I might tell you mine." 

Her footfalls and mood were lighter after that. 

* * *

The two walked in silence for much of the rest of the journey. The weather was not much of a hindrance as the forests cushioned them from the winds and provided some protection from the rain. Jack's thoughts were of what lay ahead. For all he knew of Adam this could be a trap of some sort. But if it wasn't... If it wasn't then there was the possibility of some truth. For the first time in his life Jack had contemplated his mortality. If not for Adam the Psycho Warriors would have feasted upon him. If he was normal he presumed he would have nightmares of them pressed in on him, but instead he saw himself clad in armour and what he assumed was a Church. Black Air was irreligious. There were religions within it, but there was no doctrine as such. Black Air didn't really need one. Its members were taught reliance upon one another rather than on a force or being that they could not prove. Jack had seen chapels during missions, but he had never stepped foot inside any sort of Church. That was part of the reason the dreams seemed strange. That and the strange metal armour which hung on his dreamself, like out of a museum. Jack was not one for history either. All part of his Black Air upbringing. It had been decided it wouldn't be wise for Jack to delve too much into history. His psyche profile suggested it might prompt him to ask questions. Black Air preached freedom of information, but too much thinking could lead to difficulties. 

Of course Jack had never been told any of this. However, within Black Air there are cords of dissent. Not just in those we have seen. For this reason Jack was named Union Jack. A name with a proud heritage linked to the Pendragons. His namer had thought in so naming him, Jack would look into his name's past and start to see some truths. 

* * *

There was no cushion against the wind in Portsmouth. Portsmouth was one of those towns that had grown to a city when England had taken back its green and pleasant lands. With the countryside becoming uninhabitable for a people now urbanised certain towns and cities began to grow to accommodate the influx. As forests erupted in the midst of some of the older cities replacements were formed around old towns. Portsmouth had become a major city as had many on the coast as the forests had been less destructive near to the sea. With the problems of erosion combated or lessened building on the coast became less dangerous. 

Tangerine had never been here before. She'd spent little time in England before the last few weeks. London was a sprawling city, built on many overhanging levels as it competed against the forest for space. Portsmouth had not gone to the sky in its quest for living room. It had expanded out onto the sea. Large jetties with streets upon them jutted out from the harbour. Upon the sea were set islands of houses with large ships running between them. In the air the sky was filled with cargo vehicles. Even the ports had changed for this strange new island. 

She made her way to a pub and activated her homing beacon to wait. She had her hair kept hidden beneath a hood to avoid lecherous attention. The thoughts hemmed in on her as the normals passed by her. Sometimes she wondered whether telepaths were the loneliest creatures on this world, forced to keep a distance, trying to resist taking a peek behind the facades. It was hard isolating yourself surrounded by others. Wondering what it might be like without this extra sense. 

The Black Air agent came quickly. The woman who walked up to Tangerine was not someone she recognised. They exchanged the proper signs of recognition and Tangerine was escorted out of the pub towards a waiting hover vehicle. Tangerine's queries on who was in charge were met with a refusal to answer. Resigned to wait for the information Tangerine climbed on board the vehicle. 

In front of hung a cloak of darkness in the air. From deep within the garment's confines a face appeared of a young man with a scar running diagonally across his face. She knew this 'creature' by reputation. A killer probably surpassing Scratch. It fed on its victims. This was Cloak. 

* * *

PARIS

Drink followed drink. Alcohol tried to replace memory. Scratch sat to one end of the bar. Hours had passed since he'd found the open door. He had wandered, catching whatever flights had been available. This wasn't like him. 

Seeing the faces of the dead. 

What had Spitfire done to him? 

Remorse was for other people. He hadn't felt guilt at a death in nearly a decade. He'd stopped counting how many he'd killed for Black Air. 

Now their faces wouldn't leave his waking moments. And all spoke with Spitfire's last words to him. 'Learn something from me this time.' 

So he drank to retreat from memories and guilt. Stored guilt. 

As he drank he was watched. 

* * *

CORNWALL

Adam had been aware of their watcher for a few minutes. If she hadn't wished her presence known he would have continued on. He pushed back his hair to look at Jack. Jack had not realised his companion had stopped and continued on as the mist gathered. 

Stepping back the Immortal felt a subtle shift in time. He let his arms settle by his side, wishing for a cloak. At heart he was still a Medieval man. Not one suited to the great technological changes. He had left the embracing of the machine to those such as Crowe and the old Mys-tech board. In his heart he longed for simpler times. 

The woman who had materialised by him, however, was perfectly comfortable with her times. Her longevity hadn't come to her till the latter part of the Twentieth Century and she was still learning the trade of the Immortal. 

"So he's your champion, Adam?" she said sweetly. 

"What makes him mine?"

"You're guiding him. I saw you rescue him. That makes him yours. I have no champion now and I'm surprised at you becoming involved with the lycra brigade. Your clan even managed to avoid my gaze for a while." 

"My children are well trained, Dark Angel." 

"Shevaun, please if I'm to call you Adam." 

"I have no other name." 

The Mist had gathered fiercely and the Dark Angel reached out with her hand and swept a oval clearing amongst the fog. The moisture hung on the edges of the oval as the space began to form a picture of Jack pushing his way through the fog. Sound gradually rose as Jack called out for Adam, waving one arm ahead of him trying to clear his path. Dark Angel looked to Adam then pulled a vial from her cloak. She poured the stark blue liquid onto the oval as Jack sank to his knees. Turning to Adam she said quietly, "So it begins." 

* * *

The world suddenly started to pull Jack down. Gravity was no longer a friend or willing accomplice. 

The first flash of light struck his eyes. He felt his eyelids prised open as the first vision hit. 

His consciousness spiralled out of his body, up into the atmosphere. Stars showered down on his shoulders as he shot up. Beneath his feet he could see the world spinning. His body started to shift as behind the world a second Earth came into view. This second planet span at the same speed as the first, shifting in size, never greater than its twin. The two came to rest side by side as the newest settled at a fraction of the original. A flash emanated upon the twin as an identical eruption began on its forebear. 

Jack's eyes watched the world in stereo as the mist came upon him once more. 

* * *

Through the scrying glass the two Immortals watched. Adam nodded slowly at the visions. 

"So, Adam, has your champion the wit to comprehend what he's been shown?" 

Adam turned his face towards her. "With a little guidance, yes. Did you understand it without such hints?" 

Shevaun, the Dark Angel, smiled. "Will he understand all he is shown then?" 

"We shall see."

* * *

The second flash of light hit harder than the first. 

Jack's knees felt the ground beneath him. Not the grass or mud he was expecting, but the coldness of stone. The mist had cleared once more and the light emanated from two torches flickering. Jack's eyes adjusted to the light as he looked around at the painted walls surrounding him. On each was a representation of various figures. 

Facing him was what appeared to be an idolised picture of a hero. The figure stood holding a spear, standing upright as an invisible sun cast down on him. His blonde hair was short and his chin square. There was a stylised Union Jack on his pendant. If only Jack had known some history he might have recognised the man. Both his watchers were well aware of who they were being shown. 

To this man's right stood a young boy, whose long black hair was tied back. The boy held himself regally, but stood with his hands clasped together as if he was hiding something. His eyes were a vivid red and Jack felt uneasy in his presence. Behind him stood a tower upon a hill, marked out by a setting sun. 

As the room revolved Jack found himself looking at a figure he recognised. Captured in a stylised black robe, holding aloft his hands towards a cup stood Nocturne. The painting captured his features and his flowing white hair. The Cup hovered out of his grasp and on its surface was the embossed form of a sword. By his side stood a bearded man, clad in full armour, clasping his hand to a wound on his chest. His free hand held out his scabbarded sword to another face Jack recognised, that of the killer Scratch. 

Jack's mind reeled as he felt his body shifted again. No control over his form. His attempts to close his eyes were fruitless as the vision continued. The last figure Jack remembered amongst the visions was his face with that of Adam behind. 

* * *

Adam looked to the glass. "Our time is running short. We must show him the next stage before the visions are spent." 

The slender fingers of the Dark Angel reached to touch the glass as she said, "The Quest may decide its own course. Your champion is being changed by forces outside even my control." 

* * *

The stone floor fell away as Jack found himself knee deep in grass. From behind he felt a blade touch his shoulders then a force propel him forwards. Ahead of him rose a tower, a chapel of green. The structure in front of him was surrounded by forests all leading to the central tower carved from stone. It stood atop a mound which descended deep into the bowels of the earth, with but a single causeway allowing access. As Jack considered it he saw a black bird of some size perched upon its peak watching him. Its squawk was the only sound Jack could hear but he felt the pulse of the tower breathing. 

Jack stepped back and once more hit the coldness of stone. Lantern light again surrounded him as a hand reached out from the darkness. Its long talons and almost putrefied flesh glistened in the dim light as they stretched ever closer to Union's face. He stood his ground as the mist came once again. 

* * *

PARIS 

The first blow hit his alcohol soaked body sharply. It sent Scratch to his knees and he tried to stand again. A voice from behind faded in and out as it said, "How much drugs do we have to feed into him to put him down?" 

Another voice replied, "Obviously more," as a blow struck his knees preventing him from rising. His vision was severely impaired, his head swimming as he tried to stay unconscious. He couldn't even seem to form the command to use his powers. 

"Spike him again," the second voice ordered. 

A sharp pain struck his neck as he felt a syringe press in. He tried to raise his head, but to no avail as the new batch of drugs hit his system. Scratch fell to the ground heavily as consciousness gave up on him. 

The last he heard was the second voice saying, "Bring him quickly." 

**NEXT ISSUE: **

Who has Scratch? What mission has Tangerine been sent on and how might it relate to one of Jack's visions? Meet another member of the Clan Destine and will we see what has become of Jack? Find out in **BATTLELINES**. 

* * *

This issue is dedicated to Luba Kmetyk, who I hope will recognise some of the figures on the walls and where the idea came from. This first segment of Excalibur should finish with issue 8 as the initial group works together. While hiding the truth the visions in this issue give a large number of clues to the future of the title and some of our cast. This is also the first appearance of a new cast member, who will be fairly important to the future of England. 

MFS continues to grow with some new titles coming out and plans are underway for Black Air to pop up in some other places. And for one of our merry band to be involved in a storyline not for the squeamish. 

News from my end of fanfic. I am no longer part of DCF. After months of problems on both sides _Starman_ and _Challs_ have packed up their bags. Where they are going to will get announced shortly, but if you want to keep up with their new stories no matter what then just write to me and I'll add you to the mailing list. On a Happier note _Sand and Stage Mist_ lives once more back at the site it left. That's right Yesteryear is once more producing S&SM with a very rarely seen (unless you knew where to look) issue 3 coming very shortly. Oh and you can look for a guest written issue by me of _X Men Underground_ in a few months while Bryan is away working. Plans are it'll answer what's at Europe's end of the Underground. 

This month's recommended reading (apart from _Doom 2_ due in a few weeks) are the original Clan Destine series by Alan Davis in time for next issue and Jac Milnestein's _Noir_ over at YY with guest appearances by some unusual people. 

Any letters and letter column name suggestions to me at Starman26@hotmail.com 

[Marvel Future Shock][2]

   [1]: mailto:starman26@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.slayerfanfic.com/mfs/



	5. Default Chapter Title

**_WHAT HAS COME BEFORE:_**_ A single Black air operation has left its members questioning their loyalty. Union, also called Jack, underwent a vision quest with unknown final results. Tangerine, a telepath, has been summoned back for a new mission and Nocturne, the Mage, has encountered Black Air lies within on of their libraries. In Paris Scratch, the killer, has been captured by persons unknown. The group is fractured, but has gained the aid of the immortals Adam Destine and the Dark Angel._

The water struck his head. Scratch waved his hand at the source. The water stopped. 

"Get up!" a deep voice commanded. 

"I've got a hangover. Leave me alone or I'll kill you." 

"Get up now or I'll kill you.!" 

Scratch struck out with his hand once again, one eye opening. "This is not a game." 

To his side stood a tall bearded man with long black hair, holding out his hand. "I'm glad you realise that finally, Scratch. My name is Gawain. Pleased to meet you." The man was wearing a full set of chainmail armour. 

### BATTLELINES 

## EXCALIBUR: MFS Issue 5 

Written and created by Mark Peyton

Which ever choice he had made he would have had to let someone down. If he had stayed with Jack, then his family would have suffered. A distress call had been sent using one of Newton's devices. The Family had separated in this time of woes, but he was still their father and one of his children was in trouble. He would not see one of his offspring harmed again. He had failed too many. 

The Dark Angel had been kind enough to loan him one of her collection of vehicles and it spirited him across the channel. This vehicle and the call had reminded him potently of his son Newton and his quest for knowledge. Each of his children was very different. Even the twins had been. He had long relinquished their upbringing to brothers and sisters, but attempts to avoid old mistakes made all new ones. 

He'd been born in 1168 and after his quest to the Holy Land for his love, they had produced their children. The Family. The Clan Destine. He had existed all that time, invulnerable, immortal, but for large periods of his life, emotionless. It had become a way of coping. Having seen his children die. Having been forced to kill one, Vincent. Sometimes it was very easy to go for decades feeling nothing. The alternative had driven him to despair on more than one occasion. 

It had once been said the Family were lovers not fighters. Though they all had powers they had operated the Relative Stranger policy to keep their longevity a secret and the Family away from being lured into being embroiled in the events of this world. Again a mistake on a number of occasions. They had almost all sat idly by while a little man named Hitler had tried to twist the world into his warped vision. While Mad Jim Jaspers had altered the perceptions of much of England and turned it into a Fascist state. While Doom had swept across Asia and Russia and forever altered the planet. 

A mistake. 

One he was trying slowly to amend. He had argued long and hard with some of his eldest children over his planned course of action, but onto this path he was now set and the Quest had already started. The world needed changing and it needed people to stand up again and be heroes. When the only masks on view weren't people the common man could look up to then things didn't get changed. The Quest gave them a chance to be heroes again and he owed it to his children to try and make a difference. 

* * *

_BLACK AIR FILE #BA148C12 _

_Cloak is a special case within Black Air. He does not derive his powers from innate abilities, but rather an all encompassing Cloak which seems to connect to some darkness powers and maybe even another dimension. Black Air has heard tales of this Cloak being used by another with a partner named Dagger. This is currently under examination._

* * *

ABOVE THE ENGLISH CHANNEL

"Your codename is Tangerine. Is that correct?" 

"Is this like 20 questions? Yes, of course that's my codename." 

"I don't know what groups you've worked with before, but with me you show some respect and we will get along fine." 

Tangerine shook her head. "I guess you missed all the brotherhood speeches. Now we've got the banter sorted what am I here for?" 

Cloak shifted in the darkness. "We are enroute to a city in Northern England. All three of you have been picked because of your experience with the supernatural. For now the mission we are going on is Top secret. Now have any of you encountered the name of the Hobgoblin King?" 

Tying up her long red hair, Tangerine considered the question. The other two agents, Gauntlet and Mace seemed far more comfortable with Cloak than she was. Gauntlet, she had seen before, but she remembered a much fresher faced young man, all flash and spirit. The man standing in front of her now seemed far more scarred and battle weary. The woman, Mace, was new to her. It was her who had retrieved Tangerine in Portsmouth. She had no idea yet what Mace's abilities were. Gauntlet, on the other hand was a basic strong man and, if she remembered correctly, a very dirty fighter. 

Cloak looked at her as she remembered his question. "No, the name means nothing to me." 

"Then I shall have to give you three a history lesson." 

* * *

_BLACK AIR FILE #DG910V62 _

_The Hobgoblin King is a name that has increasingly appeared in Black Air mission reports. Incidents were initially confined to skirmishes on the borders of Latveria and at the Claudian tomb, but they have become more and more widespread. The self proclaimed King has so far not been seen and there are so far no indications if he has connections to the bearers of the Hobgoblin name during the initial Spiderman's career. His minions so far have ranged from ineffectual pseudo demon flyers to staged manifestations of demon risings. There has been little actual magic used, but there is nothing to suggest that it is not a possibility. Most disturbingly the main incidents of skirmishes has been on 'Sword' missions. All possible avenues of information gathering must be pursued. See also DG204C86 and DG121G27._

* * *

Scratch sipped the coffee slowly, still nursing his head and ego. 

"So, good sir, is the refreshment suitable?" The gruff voice asked. 

"It's fine. I'm not a coffee connoisseur. You said your name was Gawain." 

"That is right. It has been my name for these long years." The Knight moved to sit in a wooden chair and stroked his dark beard as he considered Scratch. "And you are the one they called Scratch." 

"That's right." Scratch's voice sounded almost curious. "And how do you know that?" 

"Because that's who I sent my associates to bring to me. You hardly seem the right sort to be a Knight and Scratch is not a name to conjure with like the others of my King's late court." 

Scratch set down his drink and waved his arm at Gawain. "Right lets just stop there. Enough with the medieval rubbish. Who are you and why am I here?" 

Gawain held his hand against his beard. "I have told you my name and you are not yet ready for why you are here. And what mean you by medieval rubbish?"

"All this stilted speech. The getup. The court stuff. That sort of rubbish." 

Gawain laughed heartily. "There is certainly a warrior spirit to you. I am Gawain. Not quite the Gawain of legend but as close as most will get to meet him. I was an android as you would put it until the Green Knight invited me to join with other good Knights in protecting the Green Chapel." 

"You're a robot with delusions of knighthood." 

Gawain rose and looked sternly at the bald man. "I have no delusions. Were I not commanded to instruct you I would strike you down as a knave. Within me rests the spirit of Gawain, once of the Round Table. So far within you rests a most black heart. You were brought here to learn. It is your inability to really live that makes you useless." 

Scratch rose and extended his fingers. "No one calls me useless." 

"Have you not seen enough death in the past few days? Or were you drinking to forget good times?" 

"What the hell do you know about it?" 

"I see a wounded warrior before me, looking for a cause to replace the one that has blackened his heart." 

Scratch stood and glared, letting no emotion show upon his face. 

"Enough with the grandstanding noble Scratch. I did not bring you here to joust, I brought you here to talk. There are changes coming and you maybe one of those affected. You have been set on a path which may lead to ruin or salvation. Now sit yourself and we will talk." 

Scratch closed his fists slowly. "This better not be a windup. I'm not in a good mood." 

* * *

THE NORTH OF ENGLAND

Not all of the English cities survived the return of the forests. Those on the coast were left relatively untouched and so flourished from the influx from the smaller inland towns. The large cities had to find ways to protect themselves and some were unable to meet the challenge. Manchester was one of those. It now sat a ruined shell amongst the trees, a warning from nature. Its former population had largely departed in the decades after 2020 as the remaining cities had sought new living space in the sky. 

The Black Air craft descended through an opening in the trees. In the ruins of the city the trees had been unable to grow as clustered due to the rubble and concrete. It alighted upon the broken remains of a square. To one side stood the fallen figure of a cherub, its wings half smashed and its eyes watching the craft's doors as they opened. Sunlight was flickering down from the treetops, but it was sparse and the whole area assumed a shade of deep green. It was a place of Green Shadows. 

Gauntlet was the first one off the ramp, running to the ruined fountain. Tangerine followed slowly behind, her energy sword and shield at the ready. Cloak's methods for running a mission were very different to those of Union. Jack had assumed everyone within the group had been so picked because they knew what they were doing. Cloak assumed everyone except him was an idiot. Tangerine wasn't even sure if Cloak thought of himself as a 'him'. The Cloak was an unnerving thing to be near to, especially with her abilities. When she wasn't even concentrating she would pick up cries of help which seemed to come from within the darkness. 

Cloak had placed secrecy over their mission. It was clear it had something to do with the Mys-tech information she and Jack's group had extracted. The added secrecy suggested something more to her. That meant it was Sword connected. Cloak would not say as much, but he wouldn't give them clearly defined parameters. She had to wonder why she was there. Why bring a telepath? 

Mace quickly cleared the ramp, heading across the square, gun in hand. They had been offered armament in the transport and, with Cloak's heightened paranoia unnerving her, Tangerine had taken a rifle, strapped across her back. Cloak was the last to leave the craft, drifting across the square, with the shadows darker in his wake. 

Gauntlet ran back to Cloak and looked to almost salute. "The area seems clear at the moment, Sir. Not knowing what direction we were heading, I was unable to scout ahead." 

The dark blue and black of the hood moved in a downward motion, akin to a nod. "We move steadily and be on our guard." 

Tangerine looked at him. "Can I ask what we are looking for?" 

"You can ask." 

The four began to move into the ruins of the once prosperous city, Gauntlet leading the way. He had donned a greyish cloak and was darting ahead. Tangerine kept a vigilant telepathic link to him, but could not bring herself to link to Cloak. SheÌd never complain about Adam again. He was a barrel of laughs in comparison. 

* * *

THE FRENCH - GERMAN BORDER

Adam had left the craft hidden many miles from his destination for a number of reasons. Though the Dark Angel's craft was fitted with some sort of matrix that masked it from scanners, Adam felt that the further away from the border he departed the vehicle, the wiser. He had no serious doubts about the success in hiding his trail, but he had heard tales in the last few months of strange goings on behind Germany's border and some of the 'things' he had encountered might not be so easily fooled. There was also the element of surprise in approaching the village his daughter's signal was coming from. A lone traveller might be overlooked, while a strange machine would certainly draw attention. Adam was dressed in his well worn travelling clothes, cloak procured from Shevaun wrapped around him and his sword within easy reach. He smiled. He wouldn't have drawn too many untoward glances during his earlier travels in these regions, centuries ago, dressed so, though the fibres were certainly different. 

It is a peculiarity of Europe that certain areas cling to the past. While major cities and towns may be highly populated by hover vehicles, their use in some outlying regions is less common. They are seen as vehicles for long travel or when speed is of the essence. So as Adam made his way along the well maintained highways he was passed not only by ground vehicles, but also a solitary horse and cart. 

As he entered the city limits, he took the signalling device from his internal pocket and began to triangulate the source. Newton's device was of course a marvel of engineering. Adam had yet to remember a device of his that had not performed above and beyond its intended function. The signal being relayed was, of course, undetected by the local authorities and, very possibly, by those hunting. There were probably only a handful of people within the world that could match his son in sheer genius. He felt pride at his family's achievements and had wondered sometimes whether he was the black sheep of his Clan and not the head. 

The signal came from a residential area close to some industrial activity. Adam began his journey there quickly and arrived fairly shortly and began to look around for his daughter. 

Snow Destine was not one of his eldest offspring. Indeed she had been raised after some lessons had been learnt from the twins' upbringing, by one of Adam's oldest children, Walter. She reminded him very much of Samantha with her artistic vents, but her powers were elemental in nature. Snow was of course her nickname, in much the same way that Kay had been called Cuckoo for her use of her abilities to prolong her life through shifting bodies. From an early age Snow had revelled in her name, and had taken to dying her hair, if not bleach white, then varying shades of light blonde. In some ways she took after him, not staying in one locale for long. They had travelled together a great number of times since she had come of age and learned to control her powers and she held a special place in his heart for more reasons than one. He was determined she would be saved. Her loss would certainly have a deep effect upon him. 

Adam walked along the street, device in hand working to plot his best route and was quite shocked to bump into his daughter, running the other way. They tumbled and as they rose Snow's expression meant that there would be little time quite yet for an explanation. She began to run once more and Adam followed, throwing back his cape to free his sword. Behind he could see no pursuer yet, but that did not mean there was not one. 

They rounded a corner after a couple of streets and Snow stopped, a little out of breath and pressed herself to the wall. She glanced at her father. "I've no real way of knowing if we've lost them. One appears to be able to make itself invisible." 

Adam nodded, understanding. "A useful ability, but we should stop here as you'll be more able to flee or fight when you've caught your breath back." 

Snow smiled and put her arms around her father's neck. "It's good to see you. I didn't know which Family members would be in range when I sent out the signal." 

Adam nodded, considering his child draped around his neck and placed awkward arms around her. His power of invulnerability came with a price - he could never feel the touch of another save his love, not even the warmth of his offspring. "You were lucky I was in Europe and was able to free myself from my chosen path. I do not know of any of your brothers or sisters who are close. My travelling has put me out of touch again." 

"There maybe another reason they didn't answer. That's why I called. It seems someone is after us. It seems someone has targeted the Clan!" 

* * *

SOMEWHERE

Scratch and Gawain sat facing each other, like opponents over a chess board. If Gawain was the self styled knight, Scratch was unsure of his title. In light of the Algiers incident he might fit pawn rather well. 

It was he who broke the silence. "You said you had a reason for bringing me here. Abducting me." 

Gawain nodded sagely. "The visions have contained your face most vividly recently. It is you at the latest crossroads. The others will have their time, but now my attentions have been aimed at you. You do not believe that I hold Gawain's spirit?" 

"Well, you seem to believe it, but my knowledge of robots..." 

"Androids."

"Androids then, isn't that great so who am I to spot you lying. I personally don't buy all the reincarnation and soul spiel. Plus, if it is true, I think I've done enough to guarantee myself a pretty bad rebirth." 

"You see no path of redemption for yourself?" 

"I'm a killer through and through. If I had a real passport I'd put that as my profession. I've killed so many now for the cause I've forgotten the numbers." 

Gawain nodded. "And the faces?" 

"Most of them yes. I've always done it for the good of the Brotherhood, that something better could come out of the sins." 

"To fight the good fight for a cause is a noble ambition, but you call them sins. Does that mean you consider part of what has been asked of you not to be for the good." 

"I decided long ago not to ask too many questions. With questions come complications. A moment's hesitation can cost you." Scratch drew his finger across one of the scars on his face. "My mementoes remind me of times I've hesitated." 

"Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"Well, Sir Knight, I have considered myself a soldier for a long time. I fight. I don't make the decisions." 

"But something has torn at your cosy indifference?" 

Scratch slowly brought his left leg to rest up on his right as he flexed his fingers against one another. "Someone I killed. A boy, now a man, who I trained." 

"And why does it bother you?" 

"I have no idea. Half the time I think he did something to me at time of death, but I know he didn't have those kinds of powers." 

"You would rather believe that, than believe in any good inside you?" 

"I'm a killer. I don't kill to be good. I kill because it is what I do. I think my place in whatever Hell there is is pretty much guaranteed." 

Gawain rose. "There was once a woman named Grace. A true bitch from all accounts, regularly put profit before human considerations. Now she attracted the attention of a creature called the Bane. It decided to use her as its vessel in attacking the Earth. No wild schemes of invasion, but attacking the very Earth itself through its guardian, the Green Knight. Good men died, creatures were slaughtered, but in the end a boy showed Grace some good within herself and the Bane was driven out and silenced for a while. Grace was changed after that. That was when I met her after my awakening. You see she had become one of those same Knights that protected the Green Chapel, protected the Earth. People can change. They can't escape their pasts, but they can change." 

Scratch nodded. "Well I'll keep my eyes out for the next boy who wants to purge the bad person." 

Gawain snorted. "I can see we have a long way to go." 

* * *

MANCHESTER FOREST

The shells of buildings looked down upon the four figures moving along the road. Branches stretched out from windows as offices now housed new life. The trees never should have been able to grow to such a size in so short a time, but in less than a century a once prosperous city was now intermingled with giant roots. 

It was not only the buildings and the empty window panes that watched the figures, but also a flock of misshapen creatures high above the ground in the canopies of the trees. They chattered like some hideous bird with their eyes firmly fixed upon the route of the group. 

Gauntlet lead the others, his large hands clenched in readiness, as the slight hum of his personal generator filtered through the sounds of boots upon gravel and what had been concrete. Cloak followed, not exactly walking, more drifting. Tangerine considered him and wondered if he could ever exist in true sunshine. Mace was behind her, darting about. Something did not feel right about her, to Tangerine, either. These people were altogether more suited to the shadows than her. They advanced up a road over what had been a cross-roads, in the middle of which a mighty tree had taken residence. Stepping over its roots they stood facing another square, flanked by low hanging wooden barriers. Cloak raised what Tangerine took to be his arm and pointed to a round building, whose domed roof had been shattered by a fabulous oak whose branches hung over the sides of the structure. 

"There is our goal. That was once a library. Within it we will find the information we seek. Come, time is of the essence." 

Gauntlet ran across the square to the shattered doors of the library and signalled for the others to follow. Tangerine brought her sword up and glanced up into the treetops. In the darkness she was sure she could see shifting forms, but shook her head. 'Maybe the company of Cloak was really getting to her. Not all shadows are dangerous.' 

As they reached the doors Cloak shifted to the front of the group and into the edifice. He descended down the steps into a large round room whose walls were lined with shelves. In front of them stood the oak, comfortable in its new habitat and undisturbed by the seekers of knowledge. The grey and blue of Cloak's garb trailed over the dust as the group continued. 

"Where do we look?" Tangerine asked from behind. 

Cloak whirled and brought the darkness of his hood to her face. A cold chill passed over as the face looked out. "We look where I say. Be careful I will not have you jeopardise our mission." He turned, but the chill stayed with her. 

The area there were in now appeared to have been some sort of reception, but the Oak's roots had long since broken apart the desk that now lay scattered around. In front of them was a raised section connecting to some of the shelves on either side. They walked up onto the connector and Cloak spoke once more. 

"Look around for a way down. I do not believe the information we look for would have been housed on public shelves."

Tangerine was glad of the break from their 'leader' and began to move around the library's edge. She did find it rather noticeable the differences between one of the old public libraries and one of the brotherhood's. This place ran on many levels, all open in the centre, off which the reading rooms ran. The Black Air libraries, though many of them were centuries old, were much darker places, far more scholarly and closed. This idea of people openly sharing the joy of knowledge suited her far better. 

From across the way she heard Gauntlet's voice. "Come quickly I've found something." 

Her sword at the ready, Tangerine sprinted around the edges catching the glimpses of the others moving from behind the central oak. As she got closer she heard the sound of a door slamming firmly shut as the remains of books fell from the shelves. She pushed for Gauntlet's mind to be confronted by rage and the pressing claws of danger. Her pace quickened as she came to the closed portal. From behind she could hear gibbering laughter and the sound of fighting. The walls shook again as more lost books felt onto the tree's highly visible roots. Stepping back, Tangerine brought her energy sword and prepared to hack at the door. 

"No!" said Cloak's voice firmly. "Leave him. I have found the way down." 

"I'm not leaving him to god knows what in there." 

"The mission is paramount and he may yet save us. Follow." 

Tangerine brought her sword up once more. "You had better tell me what we're looking for."

"Very well, obey and follow and you will learn." Cloak turned his back on her and made his way along the building's shelf lined sides. 

Pressing once more with her telepathy she found Gauntlet in a state of bliss, fighting the good fight. His mind was so subjective that she could not deduce his danger from it. He was alive and she had to hope that was how he would remain. 

The library had been open to the forces of nature by the eruption of the forest and from the outside circled in the watchers from on high. 

Tangerine began to run towards Cloak, who was much further along the wall. She dodged the obstacles in her path with ease and was quickly making up ground. A shout of warning from Mace drew Tangerine's attention skywards as some kind of flying creature swooped at her. She responded instinctively, bringing up the energy shield and bracing as the harpy struck, her legs giving a little. The creature swiped with its claws blindly as it crumpled to the ground, but with little effect. Tangerine shook her arms as the impact caught up on her. In front of her she caught the sound of Cloak barking an order to Mace, but in her current dazed state she missed the words. She felt an arm grab and support her, almost carrying her along the walkway. They descended the steps and stepped out of the Tree room. 

* * *

The musty air caught Tangerine's nose as her head began to clear. Mace's gauntlets seemed to provide the sole illumination with an ethereal pinkish glow. She could not see Cloak anywhere. "Where is he?" she asked quietly. 

A deep voice answered. "He is right here. The threat is gone for now." 

"What were they?" 

Mace chipped in. "I think, darling, that's pretty obvious. Them were working for the Hobgoblin King." 

A short breeze struck Tangerine's face as she heard, "Quite correct, Mace." 

Tangerine looked out into the darkness at the direction of the voice. "How did they know we were here?" 

"Because they know what we have come for. A source of information against their precious King. A foothold in the war. It would seem they know far more about us than we know about them. Now are you ready?" 

Climbing to her feet Tangerine activated her sword and nodded. Her mind pressed outwards scouting and felt the unearthly presence of her attackers. "Yes, I'm ready." 

Cloak swept past her and noted, "Good as it would appear that you are the one they consider dangerous." 

Turning to follow she walked in military manner. "What makes you say that?"

Without turning Cloak replied, "Did you see them aim at either of us in there? It would appear against my better judgement I shall have to keep you alive." 

* * *

Draining his cup Scratch stood up and bowed to Gawain. "Well I'll be off. I'll be sure to recommend being kidnapped by you to all my friends. Now which way is the door?" 

The Knight remained in his seat and simply looked at the bald man. 

"Now don't make me have to spill motor oil, tin man. I just want out of here." 

"You'll leave when you are ready. I'm sorry to say that is not yet. Now sit and listen. I have more to tell you and for you to understand. You have the heart of a warrior within you, of that there is no doubt, but you are foolish in your false bravado. Now sit and we shall talk of a destiny for you where by you might live a true man." 

Scratch's eyes glared and he brought up his finger tips in front of Gawain's bearded face. "Now listen to me, Pinocchio, I am not getting called a man by a tin plated wannabe." 

Gawain's hand closed on Scratch's arm and twisted his arm back, pushing him towards his chair. "If you had listened you'd know that all your allusions to creations wanting to be human don't apply. I am what I am. I'm happy with myself and with my servitude. Can you say the same?" 

From the chair the bald man considered the bearded Knight and resigned himself to staying for a little longer. "Have you any booze then?Might as well be drunk if I'm going to listen to his drivel." 

* * *

Claws sank into the door and tore at it. Tangerine was glad that the further down they went the sturdier the doors were. The more modern doors had not withstood the brunt of the attacks, but now the barriers were starting to buy them some time. 

Cloak led them further down into far older foundations, with walls lined by the exposed roots of the many trees. The two women following had to jog to keep pace with Cloak, who moved far faster in the shadows and threatened to disappear from sight if they did not keep him in the glow of the weapon light. Around them a ghastly cackle sounded, but Tangerine's pushed outwards searching for nearby forms. There were no contacts from her telepathic radar. "Just an echo," she said softly, smiling at the notion of such a radar. 

From ahead Cloak said, "Yes, but a different sound to the chattering of the other creatures. We may be due an encounter with a different type, perhaps a leader." 

Mace traced edge of the blade she had formed from her hand against the wall. "If they have leaders, they could be a hive mind." 

"Such things are few and far between as you should know. Besides they follow a King, which suggests a hierarchy." 

As the cackle grew louder Tangerine began to jog faster. "Whatever it is can we get a move on because I don't fancy meeting it." 

They continued their descent in silence, eventually arriving at a stone doorway, with an intricate arch of roots around it. Above the centre of the arch was a stone tablet with the worn down inscription of some letters upon it. There was a definite layer of muck and grime upon it, but Tangerine resolved to read what was upon it when she had time. Cloak stood back and his folds raised directing Mace to the door. "Open it," he spat, his eyes taking on a reddish tinge. If he had unnerved Tangerine in the carrier, down in the darkness she had to wonder if she might not feel safer fighting against the creatures. 

Mace's weapon shimmered and change to her namesake as she struck home her first blow. She jutted around, dancing like a boxer. "A solid door, much more than the others." 

"I care little, open it." 

The second and third blows brought more success and, as a hole appeared, Tangerine stepped forward to bring her blade to bear. The two forced the door, opening it to a shower of dust and disturbed cobwebs. Mace showed little effect, but Tangerine coughed as some niggled her throat. Their companion merely swept inside and disappeared within the blackness. Mace followed quickly, as Tangerine backed in protecting their back. 

Within was a hive of shelves. Old scripts and volumes upon metal shelves, remarkably clear of dust. The air was musty and stale, but that bothered Cloak little. If their information was correct their goal lay to the back of the room. "Stay here, you two," he said, unseen by the other Black Airites. "Tangerine, you are to scout for information on our foe. Locate a leader's mind if you can." 

Directing herself to the shadows she asked, "Won't he be screened?" 

"I think not, if my theory is correct." 

Brushing her foot in a circle on the floor clearing a space in the dust Tangerine crouched and closed her eyes. Pushing outwards, up the long steps, round the corners, she began to touch each group she encountered. The most obvious analogy she could find for the majority of those she touched was mischievous school boys whose violent impulses had been increased. These creatures delighted in senseless destruction without a guiding influence and so they had progressed little down the steps because more immediate sources of entertainment had presented themselves. Pressing past these disobedient mites she caught a stronger presence. Around it the mites were focused on their task and this was moving closer. She delved deeper, pushing through the collected buffering of the little minds. There was a sense of adulation around this creature. In its presence the mites let the name Masque whisper through their brains. It was like a chant, with the thought of pleasing this creature paramount in the small thoughts. Her mind pressed against as she felt some confusion amongst the mites as the name slipped from their thoughts. Taking charge of one of the small minds she looked through its eyes upon Masque. 

Clad in a dirty brown cloak and bound in bandages, this man's face was a wonder to behold. Amongst the squalor of the creatures, who seemed much smaller at his feet, he appeared almost angelic. The unblemished skin, the grace of his movement. Tangerine shook herself as she felt her core being lost to such a vision. Masque stopped and looked down at the eyes through which Tangerine watched. "You will not win, telepath. You will not disrupt our King's rule. We will find his kingdom for him." He cupped the face of the creature in his palm and smiled. Tangerine quickly broke contact as the cackle rang out once more. 

She came back to reality to find Cloak's face close to hers. "What did you find?" 

"Their leader's name is Masque. He's using a version of telepathy as the majority of the creatures seem fairly basic. So yes, in my opinion, you were right they were out to kill the telepath. Any strong mind pulse could conceivably disrupt their control." 

Cloak's hood nodded. "Good, good. Mace, make contact we have all we came for." 

Tangerine pushed herself up and questioned, "Make contact with who?" 

Cloak glided through the doorway. "With Gauntlet, of course. Do not question my orders again, girl." 

From outside Tangerine could hear the rattle of laser fire and the walls and ceilings showered dirt as explosions struck. In her mind's eye she could still seeing the smiling face of Masque and those eyes. 

Mace raised a communicator to her mouth and then shouted over to Cloak. "He wants to know where to aim." 

The blue and black swirled as Cloak entered then emerged from the shadows. "Have him aim here." 

"You what??" Mace exclaimed. 

Cloak's voice grew dark. "Tell him or I will relieve you." The brow of the cloak drew down over his face with just the redness of his eyes piercing through the dark. Mace stepped back as she felt a chill run across. Slowly she brought the transmitter to her mouth and obeyed. Cloak swept past Tangerine and Mace ran after him. Not deciding to wait around Tangerine turned and pelted down the corridor after the fast retreating forms. 

If it was a possibility Tangerine would have sworn she heard the roll of thunder under the ground. As she braced herself in a doorway the corridor began to collapse as a stream of energy poured through it. The ceiling gave way and light began to shine down from above, accompanied by a stream of dirt and wood as the debris began to fall back in. With no hesitation the three hurled themselves up the collapsing tunnel. They scrambled up into the air and jumped clear as gravity took hold and reclaimed the hole with rubble. Dust gushed forth as the Library began to feel the effects of part of its foundations being torn away. The three stood buffeted by the wind as the carrier lowered itself and the left hand corner of the Library sank into the ground. From the rooftop crashing could be heard as the roof collided with the stationary Great Oak. The cackling from within ceased and the wind slowed as the carrier touched down. 

Cloak, with little ceremony, boarded the carrier and moved to its cockpit. Tangerine stood for one last moment looking at the ruined shell of a former fountain of knowledge as it continued to slide into the earth. She pulled herself together and slowly climbed into the carrier, wearily. 

As the carrier began to ascend carefully through the treetops, Tangerine found her mind once more drifting to the face of Masque. She gazed to the front of the hover vehicle at Cloak and closed her eyes disturbed. She did not know which was the face of the enemy anymore. 

* * *

**_NEXT ISSUE_**_ - Who is after the Destines? Where is Jack and will Scratch and Gawain manage a civil word? All these answers and more as we head towards that rather important issue 7._

This issue was written to the sounds of Sarah Mclachlan - Surfacing and Fat Boy Slim - Right Here, Right now. 

Things to look out for: 

Warphead at Ashcore Fanfic, Vietnamese Wallflowers and some others. Written by MFS's very own mad one Robin Sutton who has restarted a series he once wrote as part of my old Starman DCF site. A completely original story set across the timestream with those off beat characters you'd expect from Rob. Plus at least one character who is an escapee from old role-playing campaigns I used to run. One of the best things Rob has ever written. 

On a side note if you want to know what happens to Black Air agents in Latveria then read **Doom MFS 2**. 

The Tori Amos Complete Videos which I'm sure I'll keep watching while writing for months. 

On the Comics front - **Dr Midnite LS** which recently completed its run was really fun in my opinion and reinforced what a great concept the Doc is. Oh and try Slingers which is my favourite Marvel title at the moment ahead of Inhumans. 

Next issue hopefully I'll have some mail - the only correspondence I got about Excalibur said it rocked, but it was part of a longer mail so it didn't seem fair to print it - or something to rant about. 

For more information on the Clan Destine check out [http://marvel-universe.webjump.com/clanDestine/index.html ][1]

Emails to me at [Starman26@hotmail.com][2]

The letter column is called **_CRIB NOTES_** at the moment. 

See ya  
Mark 

[Marvel Future Shock][3]

   [1]: http://marvel-universe.webjump.com/clanDestine/index.html%0D%0A
   [2]: mailto:Starman26@hotmail.com
   [3]: http://www.slayerfanfic.com/mfs/



	6. Default Chapter Title

**_WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE:_**_ _

_A single Black Air operation has left its members questioning their loyalty. Union, also called Jack, underwent a vision quest with unknown final results. Tangerine, a telepath, has been drawn into the conflict between Black air and the Hobgoblin King for a mysterious prize. Nocturne, the mage, has encountered Black Air lies, while Scratch, the killer, has developed the inkling of a conscience. With the aid of the immortals Adam Destine and the Dark Angel the group have started to come together. _

* * *

The night was starting to draw in early and Adam wrapped the cloak around his daughter Snow as he held her. She wriggled. "I'm fine, father. I am a grown woman you know. It's not as if the cold affects me." 

Adam looked at her petulant face. "Forgive a parent making sure his offspring is comfortable. We should think about moving, maybe then you will tell me who is after you." 

Snow turned her face to his. "If I say the names it's a little like summoning the demon." 

"Demon's are not what I fear in this world." 

"Well I can't say for certain, but it is down to two possibilities. Doom or Black Air!" 

## EXCALIBUR: MFS

### Issue 6

#### Written and Created by Mark Peyton

The wind blew up the alleyways and Nocturne thanked the maker for his cloak. He had entered the small town quietly as he had done the others that had been searched. His research had uncovered Union heading for England, followed by a transfer of Tangerine from Portsmouth. He needed to find Union and ask for his help. 

It was well known that Union was on the verge of Black Air, mistrusted by many for past actions. That combined with his leading the Crowe mission [_see Excalibur MFS #1 - Mark_] that made him an obvious choice to turn to. Nocturne had little way of guaranteeing any success at finding Union without going through Black Air channels. To have used them would have alerted the powers that be to his intentions. After all hadn' they trained him to be self resourceful. So he tried a well tested English notion - he was trawling pubs. 

Now to many this might seem highly foolish, but Nocturne was not without his own resources. He was a mage of some talent, though he played it down. True, he would never be in the Sorceror Supreme league, but not everyone had to be. Time waiting had given him chance to try a location spell. The connection between caster and subject was the key, though in this case Nocturne had felt something blocking, something masking Union. Nevertheless he had a rough location, so to the Pubs he went. 

* * *

_In a mad world a Fool could be King._

* * *

FRENCH-GERMAN BORDER

Adam quickly glanced around the corner, then back to Snow. "It looks all clear," he said softly. 

She nodded. "I've thought that before. One of them seems to be invisible. I don't suppose you can spot..." 

Her father looked sternly at her. "Enough time wasting. Let us find somewhere safe to sort out who our adversaries are and if need be alert the rest of the family." He stepped out into the street and looked about. "Come along Snow." 

They moved slowly down the street. Evening had set in fully and people were returning home. Adam kept Snow close to him heading towards clusters of people, intending to use them as cover. If it was either Doom or Black Air after them then they would not want a public confrontation. Even the self styled monarch of half the world wouldn't want to rock a fragile boat to go after a family of lurkers. With a little sadness in his eyes, Adam looked back to his daughter. 

Snow reached for his hand, squeezing it even though she knew he would not feel it. "What's wrong?" 

"I was just remembering other times we've been hunted and some of your brothers and sisters." He stopped pulling her to one side. "The Family has spent too long avoiding conflict in the hope it would keep us safe. It hasn't worked. Let's get you out of this place."

They pushed through the returning workers heading towards the city limits. From a rooftop a woman watched, a sniper rifle trained on Snow's head. "Group A they are heading towards your position. Be advised." 

* * *

SOUTH EAST OF ENGLAND

_'The Nonsense has a welcome ring and heroes don't come easy' - Monty Got a Raw Deal, REM_

So many pubs, so many towns and cities. Nocturne had begun to despair as he entered yet another hostelry searching for Jack. The majority of the people present were crowded around the bar quietly talking, but in one of the booths to the side sat a cloaked man, wearing one of the pins of Black Air on his lapel. Nocturne edged around to get a better look under the hood until he resigned himself to going over to the man. He moved closer and laid his hand down on the table, three fingers and a thumb outstretched, the fourth crooked underneath. The man raised his head and Union looked up at Nocturne. 

Nocturne smiled and said, "I've been looking for you." 

Union nodded. "I've been looking for myself, Midnight Runner." 

Sitting in the booth Nic looked quizzically at Jack. "I've not been called that for years, not since training. How did you know about that name?" 

"Lots of things have become clearer to me. The Red Mist has lessened and I can see more of the world." 

"You sound like you've been eating the magic ones again?" 

Jack sipped his pint. "Do I? No, nothing like that. I've had visions shown to me of a path for us all." 

"Us?" 

"I'll know the others when I see them. You're one. That's why I knew you'd come to find me. You have come to find me?" 

Nocturne paused. "You mind if I get a drink because I'm not used to other people doing the mystic thing at me." Union nodded, sipping his own. Nic returned shortly with his own pint and sat down. 

"I don't expect to be talking like this for long. As the days pass the clarity will become less and less. I expect I'll remember the details from then on when it's important."

"What details, Un... Jack?" 

"I was shown visions of the future and various people's role in it. Old forces are gathering us, shaping us for some role. At the heart of it they want us to be heroes." 

"Very nice for them, but heroes get killed. How many people do you know who would really sacrifice themselves for a noble cause?" 

Jack smiled. "More than you would think." 

"You said I was connected to this. You said you knew I was coming." 

"That's right. I saw you. Your face was the one that stood out most clearly in my memories. You were clad in black..." 

Nic looked down at his travelling clothes. "What a shock. Who else did you see?" 

"I'm not sure. The faces keep merging with a Green Chapel, but the one that has replaced yours now is Scratch." 

"That psycho. If he's one of the heroes we are really screwed." 

* * *

He turned over and tangled himself up in the blanket. Unconsciously he twisted again and fell over the chair's arm. He landed on the stone floor and swore profusely as he woke up. Pushing himself up off the floor he looked across the dimly lit room at the other figure sat in a chair. "This is all your fault. I could be in a nice warm bed, but no, you had to kidnap me." 

Gawain looked at him for a moment. "There seems to be more spirit than spirits in you now." 

"Oh very droll, Medieval Mickey." Scratch pulled the blanket up. "I want to go back to real life, not spend all my time listening to you harping on about souls." 

"And what would you do in real life?" 

Scratch looked down at his hands and remembered. "Find a role and take some revenge." 

"You still have a way to go," Gawain replied. 

"Maybe, but it was never going to be instantaneous. I mean have you seen any kids around here up for helping the bad man [_see last issue for what he's on about - Mark_]? If you're so damned concern you come with me. For all I've seen you spend your time sitting in wherever here is preaching a good fight. Ever heard of leading by example?" 

Gawain rose and stroked his beard. "And where would we go, noble Scratch?" 

Scratch stood, silent for a moment, the single light in the room reflecting off his face. "We go find some others who want revenge too. Safety in numbers." 

The bearded knight shook his head. "A long way to go." 

* * *

FRENCH-GERMAN BORDER

The two Destines ran down to the end of the road and stopped. "It's too quiet," Adam said, throwing back his cloak. 

Snow began to scan the rooftops. Adam stepped back slowly. "We're getting out of here. Before they arrive." 

His daughter pointed across the square in front of them. From an alleyway a hulking dark green form emerged. Snow glanced at her father. "You really want to go through him." 

A gust of wind began to blow up from behind them and as they turned a being of impossibility formed. In front of their eyes dust particles began to collect into the body of a Sandman. The being smiled manically. "It's either him or me, darling." 

Snow stood facing the Sandman as Adam walked towards the green creature. Its red eyes shone brightly as it beat its large hand against the floor, leaving small craters behind. Adam looked unimpressed and brought his fist up, flying into the face of the creature. It stepped back, a little shocked and tried to bring its hands together on the blond man's head, growling, "Rage mad!" 

Adam stood his ground as the hands closed on his head. The dark green creature pressed, but Adam showed no signs of noticing. 

Behind him, his daughter was dodging blasts of high pressure sand emanating from the Sandman's arms. "Stay still, girly." 

Snow glared and clicked her fingers. "Go back to the Stone Age, Sandy." The air about them began to drop in temperature as water particles turned to ice. 

The extended sand arm grew taut as the Sandman snarled, "What are you doing, you cow?" 

Placing her foot down on the hardening arm, Snow replied, "Making you into more of a hard man, Sandy." She pressed and leapt over his head, kicking at him as she passed over. The Sandman began to turn, dragging his long frozen arm as Snow pulled a small cylinder from an inner pocket. 

Her father stood his ground as Rage continued to try and crush his head. Adam reached up and took one of the creature's large thumbs in his hands, pushing it back until a painful snap filled the air. Rage fell back, clutching his injured hand, as Adam struck him again in the face. The creature's knees began to give as Adam hit once more. 

Meanwhile, Snow was somersaulting past the Sandman's slowed attacks and aimed the cylinder in her hand towards the man's eyes. A piercing beam of light blasted out dazzling the Sandman, who clasped his eyes in pain. Snow flipped back and ran towards Adam. "Let's go." 

On into the night they ran, but they were not alone. 

* * *

SOUTH EAST OF ENGLAND

Nocturne was continuing to be surprised by the new calmer Jack. They'd sat and talked long into the night. Jack had always had that dangerous, wild streak to him, and the tales told how little things had been known to push him over the edge. His voice now spoke with an authority that hadn't been there before. The only mission Nocturne had been on with Jack as leader had suggested Jack as extremely nervous about leading. The group had been more a collection of individuals, and luckily most of those individuals knew their roles well. Now Jack spoke and it sounded right. His words touched chords, even when talking about concepts that could be considered ludicrous. Here he was talking about visions of fantastical proportions and Nocturne found himself believing in what was being said. 

The Fantastic still exists in a world where superpowers are considered, if not part of normality then something that was accepted. There are those that can accept men crawling up walls, but not the idea of magic. Jack was talking in part in concepts way beyond the idea of the existence of magic. He was getting close to metaphysics, but the way he was talking made perfect sense. Something had happened to him. That was obvious, but what did it mean for Nocturne's plans for Black Air? 

* * *

_This is a time for changes._

* * *

**NEXT ISSUE:** Number 7 is here as big changes come to our merry band. Let's just say that after next issue our group should know where they stand with at least one group and the introduction of a new cast member. So come along for **the GATHERING**. 

* * *

**CRIB NOTES**

A Letter oh wonder of wonders and its not from Jac or Luba. Shock horror. 

_Mark  
Excalibur 5 _

_Overall this series hasn't really been one I've been that interested in. But I carried on reading because you've chosen to use some of the old Marvel UK characters that I loved so much. _

_This issue finally managed to draw me in. Whether its because things are finally moving along or that the writing seemed to have improved slightly. Whatever the evolving subplots are making this more interesting all the time. _

_Any chance of a Clan Destine mini-series? Assuming you plan to introduce the rest of the family at some stage. This would serve to introduce the characters to readers unfamiliar with them. Set it in the past and you have an excellent avenue to explore the history of the MFS world. _

_Anyway keep up the good work. Dave Wood _

_Still waiting for that MFS Transformers title. :)_

THANKS FOR THE LETTER DAVE. I'M GLAD THE TITLE IS GETTING BETTER. PART OF THE PROBLEM FOR ME WITH THE EARLY CHAPTERS WAS HAVING TO INTRODUCE A NEW CAST AND HAVING TO ASSUME MY AUDIENCE KNEW NOTHING ABOUT THOSE CHARACTERS I BORROWED FROM MARVEL UK. AND AT THE SAME TIME START UP MY SUBPLOTS. OK A LOT OF SUBPLOTS. HOPEFULLY NOW I CAN PROGRESS THE SERIES AND START DEALING WITH THE VISIONS AND THE ROLE OF BLACK AIR. I'VE ALREADY HAD SOME GUESSES TO WHAT ROLES CERTAIN CHARACTERS WILL PLAY IN THE TITLE BASED ON THE VISIONS AND I EXPECT MORE WHEN I INTRODUCE ANOTHER CHARACTER. 

AS FOR THE CLAN DESTINE, A MINISERIES IS PROBABLY NOT GOING TO HAPPEN AT THE MOMENT MAINLY DUE TO TIME. I CAN PLOT ALL I WANT, BUT IT'S GETTING THE TIME WITH WORK TO ACTUALLY WRITE THE STORIES. HOWEVER, AS YOU CAN SEE I'M INTENDING SPOTLIGHTING THE CLAN WITHIN THESE PAGES AND YOU'VE MET A NEW MEMBER YOURSELF. THERE ARE CLUES TO WHAT'S HAPPENED TO THE OTHERS - NOT A LOT MIND YOU, BUT THERE ARE CLUES. WHEN THE STORY ALLOWS IT I MIGHT USE SOME OF THE MORE FAMILIAR CLAN MEMBERS. THOSE THAT ARE ALIVE ANYWAY. HOPEFULLY THE ADAM SECTION LAST ISSUE EXPLAINED SOME OF THE BASIC CONCEPTS OF THE CLAN TO NEW READERS AND THE WEB PAGE I GAVE OUT LAST TIME HAD MORE INFORMATION ON THE SERIES FOR THOSE WHO WERE INTERESTED IN FINDING OUT MORE. OF COURSE IF ANYONE CAN POINT ME IN THE DIRECTION OF ANY OTHER CLAN DESTINE SITES I'D BE VERY GRATEFUL. ADAM IS CURRENTLY GOING TO GET ANOTHER SPOTLIGHT AND A VERY INTERESTING MEETING COME THE END OF THE YEAR. 

I'M GLAD SOME PEOPLE APPRECIATE THE USE OF MARVEL UK CHARACTERS. I KNOW THAT THEY ARE UNFAMILIAR TO A LOT OF AMERICAN READERS, BUT AGAIN IF ANYONE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND OR WANTS TO KNOW MORE ABOUT A CHARACTER THEN LET ME KNOW AND I'LL PUT SOMETHING IN THE COLUMN. WITH THIS IN MIND YOU SHOULD SEE A DARK ANGEL SPOTLIGHT IN ISSUE 9 LETTING NEWER READERS UNDERSTAND HER BETTER AND LETTING OLDER READERS DISCOVER HOW SHE'S CHANGED SINCE WE LAST SAW HER IN THE MARVEL UNIVERSE. OF COURSE I MAY GET TEMPTED TO DO A FACT FILE OF SORTS IN THE LETTER COLUMN ALONG THE SAME LINES AS JAC HAS BEEN DOING HIS JAMES JOYCE ONE OVER IN FF. NOT THAT JAMES JOYCE HAS EVER BEEN A MARVEL CHARACTER BEFORE. 

AS FOR TRANSFORMERS MFS I'VE ALREADY SAID WHEN THAT'LL HAPPEN. THE SAME DAY GALACTUS EATS ENDOR. 

This issue was written to the sounds of   
Star Wars Episode 1 Soundtrack and   
REM Automatic for the People 

If anyone is interested then over in Heroes Magazine 3 you can find an interview with me by Alex 'Biohaz' Cook and then this month in MFS's own site Magazine MFS MAG there's one with me by Bryan Hall. Don't ask me how they both ended up being this month. The very concept of someone wanting to interview me is freaky enough. 

Other stuff from my end of fanfic. Well you should be able to find the start of a new Limited Series by me called Mysterio MFS on this site which is my first venture in MFS America. Quite different to my normal stuff as this is pure superhero action. Also starting in the aforementioned MFS MAG is a regular feature by me called Marvels MFS offering a look at MFS from within the world. 

On the subject of my original Starman series there will be an announcement once final details are sorted out. Yes it is coming back and continuing as is Challengers done by myself and Rob Sutton. Sand and Stage Mist continues over at Yesteryear and there was a special story done for the YY Birthday special. And I might be involved with another familiar series somewhere else, but won't be writing it. This plus all the usual nonsense. 

My Fanfic picks this month would be the latest FF MFS Limited Series by Jac Milnestein. I agree with his comments, in his issue 2 column, that it is much better than the original series and its growing and evolving like a good MFS series should. Nomad continues with issue 2 so check that out too. Oh and keep your eyes peeled for New Warriors MFS which is quite different to the rest of MFS. 

Outside MFS I'd suggest reading the new Gotham Knights at Yesteryear because hey its Ali and that's always a good sign. I'll get up to date on Suicide Squad DCF eventually and there looks to be a new Starman series at DCX. No idea what its like but I'll read it because it's Starman and see if it lives up to the name. It's doing one thing I'll never do which is use Jack Knight. 

Comics wise - try Promethea by Alan Moore which is far superior to the rather lacklustre Tom Strong. Starman was good this month even if I have guessed the villain two years at least in advance. And Slingers is always worth reading. 

See you next time 

All Letters, death threats and general abuse to Starman26@hotmail.com 

[Marvel Future Shock][1]

   [1]: http://www.slayerfanfic.com/mfs/



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